Breaking His Vows
by Wolf the swordsman
Summary: Jon will break his vow, leaving the watch, turning to find his sister's. The path before him is Immense, filled with pain. But he will not stop until he see's them again. Armies stand before him and he will fight, if that means he can see their smiles again. Incest in future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Breaking His Vows

Chapter one- Lemon Cakes

Author's notes- Story won't follow cannon. No sexual nature will happen till their older.

Jon's age's- Nine

Sansa's age's- Eight

Robb's older- Ten

Snow fell gently on Winterfell. The forest's were filled with only silence as nothing disturbed it's slumber. Years passed, nothing ever disturbed the napping forests around Winterfell. In the dawn of day however the joy and life sprang. The silence being broken by three young Starks, yelling. They ran in the snow, the two brothers and the sister. One leading, egging the others on, while the other two barely kept up with him. Their feet crunching in the snow as they laughed. The snow covering their boots, as their shouts filled the silence. Never stopping for several minutes, their breath rapid, until one of the brothers came to a stop. Causing the other two to follow.

"I think we've gone to far." Jon stated, pressing his hands to his knees trying to grasp his breath. His brother and sister knew well, being deeper in the forest than they ever had. The unknown was a risk the Starks did not know but to Robb that made it all the more exciting.

"Come on, I want to see what's further. I bet theirs some caves." Robb declared with a smile, his face flush. Sansa agreed with several nods.

"I don't know." Jon said looking back not seeing Winterfell. His home far from his sight.

"I'm going." Robb stated as he took off, the snow at his heels without thought. With a bolt Sansa joined after him, leaving Jon alone.

He watched as Sansa's cloak disappeared in the distance. The world grew quiet in time and the snow fell on him, the minor snow flecks falling into his hair. He stood looking back no sight of Winterfell, his home.

Sansa ran after her older brother trying to reach him, but quickly found the noise of no one beside her. Looking back she found only trees. "Jon?" She asked for her best friend. Realizing Jon wasn't with them she hurried back through the mud and bushes, her cloak being ripped, running to find her brother. Passing the countless green she found him still motionless standing alone, gazing back home.

"Oh come on." She stated as she went to him and grabbed his hand. He looked at her for a moment, her grasp was the only thing he knew well. With a smile, he looked over to his sister, his best friend. With a nod he chased after her through the snow. They ran further and further, catching up with their hurtling brother. No matter where they went, the three Starks were inseparable. Robb, the leader of the group on adventures through the castle. To Ned's delight seeing his children always together. But to Catelyn's dismay finding the bastard with her son and daughter where ever they were. Where ever they went!

The three came to a screeching halt before a small stream, the bright cool water flowed down several miles and miles. Across there was a single path of several rocks that led to the other side.

"Let's hop to the other side." Robb declared with a bright grin. Without answer he hopped from each rock, his body limber and found the way with ease. Until he reached the other side. Once across he turned around, a bright grin across his face of achievement. He pressed his chest out and placed his hands on his hips, feeling proud.

"Come on across, we still got loads to see." He yelled to the two, waiting to see them come across. Sansa followed and Jon did as well. In no time they stood together. With the three on the other side they continued their journey running as they could. Running for minutes finding nothing but more trees and mud among the muck. They came to a halt, out of breath, Robb his hands on his knees as Sansa leaned on Jon. The young bastard looked at the two. Robb looked at Jon, a bright smile on his face and laughed, Sansa chimed in as Jon did as well.

"You two could barely keep up." Robb stated.

"I know if you didn't get a head start, I would catch you." Jon replied with a smile.

"Yeah you're probably right." Robb stated, once he regained his breath, stood stretching his arms.

"Race you back to Winterfell." Robb declared as again he took off with a laugh. Jon and Sansa procured after him at his heels.

In this moment they were free, they were content, the snow on their feet and knees with the blue sky above them. They were family and they had each other. Nothing would break them apart. Nothing would ever break Jon and Sansa apart.

In no time Robb stopped right before the doors of Winterfell as Jon and Sansa became immobile beside him. All out of breath, Robb dropped to the snow his knees digging into the cold as he laughed. They laughed but quickly halted. The noise of someone walking closer, looking to the side they found their father standing before them.

He gazed over them a look of displeasure against his face. "Where have you been?" He asked his children, eyeing Robb in particular.

"Nowhere." Robb stated quickly as he was the only who knew what to say. Jon and Sansa were frozen in time staring at their father. Ned smiled as he looked at his children whom he loved, leaning forward.

"I know mother won't be pleased if I told her."

"Father Please." Sansa begs.

"Don't worry I won't. Just don't travel to far." Ned whispered as he smiled looking at the three. Jon, Robb and Sansa all smiled at their father. Ned gazed them feeling an affection.

"Robb come with me." He said, Robb nodded as he stood up following his father. With Robb gone, Sansa walked into the courtyard standing beside Jon.

"What do you want to do?" Sansa asked her brother.

"I know." Jon stated, he grabbed his sister's hand running towards the castle to the kitchens. They hurried, Sansa never letting him go through Winterfell down several halls, and several steps, the entire time Sansa questioning her brother. Reaching the kitchens they stopped right before the kitchen door, the torches lighting their way.

"What are we doing?" Sansa asked her brother.

"Shh, come on." They slowly opened the door, the smell of caked good wafting towards them. Once the two were inside Jon pointed his finger towards a large tray of lemon cakes.

"We shouldn't, mother could catch us." She whispered hunched down.

"We don't know where the chef is. Now one will know." He whispered. Sansa looked over worried but in the end nodded. Jon walked into the room with his sister. They stealthily crouched over to the lemon cakes beside one another looking every direction, seeing no one. Jon grabbed the plate, he held the plate Jon turned back and hit his foot against the table, causing a bang throughout the kitchen. They stood motionless as the chef ran into the room and stopped as he turned finding two children standing together with the lemon cakes in hand.

"What are you two doing?" he asked walking closer. Before he could reach them however Jon grabbed her hand leading her towards the halls. They laughed as they ran, the chef yells after them.

In no time they reached Jon door closing it behind him with Sansa in the room. They couldn't stop laughing, the two sat in Jon's room, Sansa sat on the bed with her brother the plate of lemon cakes between them. Jon stuffed his face full as he stuffed the lemon cake in his mouth. He looked over seeing his sister not eating a drop, not wanting to enjoy the meal by himself he raised one to his sister.

"Have one." He stated holding a lemon cake to her.

"No thanks." she stated pushing it away, never once trying the treat. This caused Jon to grin, he didn't know a treat his sister did not love.

"Just one. You'll love it." He stammered. She looked at him with that great big smile of his. Always so warm to be near. She loved him now and always would.

"Fine. Only because you won't stop." She declared lending her hand waiting for a treat. With the lemon cake in hand she gazed her brother who smiled. Bringing it to her mouth she took a bite, letting the taste sting her taste-buds. What she expected was a sour taste something that would leave a bitter flavor. Only it was sweet and delicious savoring the taste, her face turned perky as her eyes opened wide looking at Jon. Her brother lending herself to savor not something dark, but bright.

"I told you." He said with a smile.

"They're so good." She declared taking another bite. Having not eaten them before she dove back stuffing her face with the treats, the deliciousness stinging her mouth. Jon couldn't contain himself at this and burst into laughter as she ate several more.

In no time they had eaten the plate. Licking her lips she smiled brightly at her brother who couldn't stop his laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two- She Turned Away

 **Author's note- Originally this story was meant to just be a Sansa and Jon story. But then I got to thinking and if Jon left the wall for Sansa he would defiantly look for Arya. I thought of ideas and it grew on me. The story would still mostly focus on Sansa and Jon for a while and Arya would go off on her own. But this is what I'm thinking any feedback on this would be very appreciated. Would you like to see that or not.**

The sun shined into Sansa's room as her eyes fluttered open. She smiled as she stretched her arms, every morning was anew day of possibilities for her. Hopefully another day of adventures with her brothers. Maybe they would run to the cave of the bronze sword. She could remember that day as if it were moments ago, Jon being excited finding the sword and grabbing it, only to find it all rusted. But still he thought of it as a prized treasure holding it. The sound of Robb's laughs at him for holding a useless piece of junk. But Jon kept it, unknown to the family. In the night she promised to keep it secret.

She left her bed and went to her dresser. With a beautiful blue gown against her skin she left her room. Swaying out into the hallway, the noise of swords clanging with one another came to her, she heard it and knew. Closer she hurried to the widow to the courtyard and there she found the sight of her brothers. Jon stood in the mud a blunt sword in his right hand and her brother Robb as well. They wore heavy armor to protect them from the hard blows.

Ahead of them stood Ser Rodrick before the armory, his face gruff and his arms wrapped around the other watching intently, occasionally scratching his massive white beard. The mud covered both of the brothers, the cold probably stuck to them with that repulsive smell it carried. But she knew both of them welcomed it, especially Jon. There was nowhere she thought he was more at home than holding a sword out in the cold. Unlike most of her family Jon was different, or at least that was how people looked at him. Still in her mind she thought when they were together and the servants would look at him as if he didn't belong. Like he was a wolf itself and they needed to stay away from the vicious fangs that Jon bared or you would be eaten. She never understood why, he was family and she would always find his laughter in the worse days.

Their was another thing different about him, if he wasn't in the hall or with Robb or her he was in the courtyard with Ser Rodrick. Never a day passed that she could remember Jon didn't hold a sword. Ser Rodrick welcomed him and gave him every tip and lesson in his experienced life and Jon listened. Many times she thought of being a knight and only Jon was the one who told her she should. Her mother got word of this and explained that knights were for boys, rotting smelly things not for ladies as Sansa. And that was the end of that, but her brother still encouraged her.

The loud sounds of clashing swords brought her back to reality as some men had gathered yelling the two on. Jon was on the offensive bringing his sword above his head as he moved towards with his body driving his sword towards his brother, cutting air. Even with Robb's massive size he had to back his feet driving in the mud, the sun broke through the clouds and their swords flashed in the sun. Jon lunged forward his sword being blocked by Robb with a grunt as he pushed with his might and charged Jon.

Watching Jon made it look easy as his feet moved swiftly back blocking with clangs until he had an opening and brought his sword to Robb's stomach and with force. Unlike a quick thrust Jon put his body into it driving his blunt sword to Robbs stomach. The armor took the blow, but it still felt like a punch from a man two times larger. Robb collapsed to his knees dropping his blunt sword splashing in the mud. But without a time to pass Jon quickly stood before him lending his hand. Robb looked up with a smile, gladly grabbing it being pulled up. Then with Robb on his feet Jon went to his sword but before he could grab it Sansa watched a little girl with short brown messy hair run up to the sword wrapping her hands around the hilt trying to lift it. Using all the strength she had she managed to lift it barley. Robb and Jon laughed, their laughter filled the air.

"Arya that is too heavy." Jon stated walking to her lifting her from the mud in his arms.

"Your lost. This is no place for little ladies." Robb stated with a smile looking at his sister. She simply frowned.

"No I'm not." She replied.

"Looks like we have another knight in our midst." Ser Rordricks voice boomed throughout the courtyard. As Sansa watched her thoughts were broken.

"Sansa." Her mother voice called for her. She looked over finding her mother walking briskly towards her.

"Have you seen your sister?" Cateyln asked as she stood next to her daughter.

"She's with Robb and Jon out in the courtyard." Sansa explained. Catelyn's looked petrified as she walked closer up to the window. She found her daughter with her son which brought a bright smile to her. But they weren't alone the bastard was with them. To her dislike her daughters and son were always seen with that bastard.

She hated that boy still remembering wishing his death but then cared for him. Once he recovered she still couldn't bring herself to love him, he was a bastard to her and not her son but some other wenches for all she cared and she couldn't care less. Sansa always saw that look in her mothers face when she looked at her brother Jon.

"Sansa." Her mother asked as she looked out to her family.

"Yes mother?" She asked.

"Your brother. I would to speak to you about Jon." She said as she looked at her daughter. Sansa nodded.

"You love him as your brother." She asked as Sansa nodded.

"Jon is not your brother." Her mother said.

"Yes he is." Sansa stated.

"He is not my son but someone else's he is a bastard your half brother." Her words were venom when she spoke of Jon.

"Do you understand?" She asked. Sansa nodded. "Good now you shouldn't be out in the cold you don't want to get sick. Come with me." Her mother stated and the two walked away together. The weeks that followed Jon didn't see his sister, she was always beside other girls and when they passed she paid him no mind.

As years passed by Jon and Sansa grew further apart, unlike when they were younger. Jon found her staying away from him, but when they were together she only spoke two words. "Half brother." Also her eyes pierced though him as like Cateyln's had always. He missed his sister but it seemed the last thing she wanted was to see Jon. It was hard for him to forget the many days they spent together and the laughs they shared. As they grew apart Jon only found his little sister wanted to be in his company. She became the light in his day only Arya wanted to see him and her eyes never pierced through him, she never saw a bastard but a brother more than her family. Unlike Sansa who never again left Winterfell. When her brothers left to visit the wall with their father to see uncle Benjen she stayed home and she never was seen again in the mud.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three- Don't Let Go

It was the same nightmare as it had for weeks Jon was somewhere foreign somewhere he felt alone the walls closing in around him desolate and unfazed, no one grazing in the halls. He ran up flight of stairs and down others running down rooms as he screamed for someone, anyone but no one answered his calls, he was alone. He came to halt gaining his breath pressing his hand to a wall, as he stood a loud scream echoed through the several walls, then another scream followed the last. Without thought Jon took off rushing to the yell he knew the voice and his heart thumped faster in his chest. The halls were covered with guttering torches on the walls of the stone casting unbearable light littered with darkness but he didn't need to trust that he followed the yell. He kicked open a door where the scream came but he found no one was there, he searched the room cursing as he found nothing but an empty hollow room. Another scream came from behind him and he knew the voice and with haste took off, sprinting, his feet pounding the stone.

For how long he did this he hadn't a clue, running back and forth as the screams filled his ears as he kicked another door and another door open, pain ran through his veins as he pushed on searching everywhere until one last door stood before him and with a kick the door burst open. But it wasn't who he thought but a man with a blurred face and he turned to Jon then with a smile burst into fire snow fell down on him, it swished around him his vision blurred as he came closer the man faded as the ground collapsed under him as the winds took up hitting him with a sting as the speed was unbearable. Raising his arm blocking his eyes as he heard a brash roar from within the ground so loud he needed to press his hands to his ears trying to block the large thunder. Crows came from the crater swirling around him, until a fire burst from the ground swallowing everything around to burst aflame as the sky turned red above him. Jon stood as the ground shook until he saw a pair of great golden eyes.

His body shot up from the bed sweat running down his brow as he breathed profoundly. The same nightmare for weeks, what was worse it was causing him to feel agony, the screams were his sisters he knew them and heard them for nights and nights plaguing him like a disease that festered inside of him. The nightmare was becoming unbearable and needed to shake them from his mind as he knew it was a nightmare nothing more. The bright sun shined into his room giving him the light he needed, pushing off the bed he slipped on his clothes, and went to brake his fast. Most mornings he spent by his lonesome.

After he eat Jon hadn't read his favorite book in quite some time and left for the small library on the either side of the castle. Passing many rooms as he went through the halls of his home, countless people passed but none spoke a word to the bastard, still he felt this was a home he felt apart of now and always.

In no time he stood before the small library no one in the room the dust covering the many shelves and different colored books. Only one tiny window in the back shined light into the small lit room with a few lit candles. Countless times he found himself here sulking alone when he was just a boy. Jon traveled deeper in the room passing the many shelves his fingers grazed the books all different shapes and sizes with so much information many he had read and many he did not. Passing the countless books he found a shelf with the history of the many houses. Searching through the vast amount of books. He went and swiftly found his favorite book the history of Targaryen house, a red and black leather book with the dragon with three heads on the cover. Jon smiled gazing over the dragon, he always wondered what the world was if dragons still soared through the sky. He pulled the book from the shelve and lost himself deep in the many kings and lives, some evil others young and some fighting battles. He thought the history of them the house with dragons were a fantasy that he would never have a chance to see.

Unknown to him in the corner of the library behind him in the darkness his little sister Arya sat reading herself and grinned when she saw her brother enter the library not noticing her. As always she was as silent as a cat, her body silent and still. As the years had passed she was taller and her hair long in a long braid running down her shoulders. Seeing her brother lost as he was many times she grinned with a sly smile. Slipping her book down on the shelf as silent as a whisper she sat up from the leather chair standing on the floor. Her feet silently moved forward each step precise as was the last the wooden floor never creaking knowing where to place her feet. Jon was currently reading of the king Aegon and how he burnt down Harrenhal with his dragon unnoticed to the girl several inches behind him, her breathing silent, slipping closer ever so gently. With the last smile Arya pounced forward up onto his back wrapping her arms around his chest and her body around him like a snake coiling around his body.

With a bang Jon dropped his book falling on the ground as he lost his footing falling forward with the extra weight, hearing someone laugh. Throwing his arms forward he caught himself pressing his hands to the shelve keeping himself on his feet. He turned back looking at his sister and saw a bright smile on her face and her eyes opened wide. She had done this many times playing tricks on him with a laugh and every time he enjoyed the trick. Jon's face softened smiling like an idiot.

"What are you doing sister?" Jon asked with a smile.

"I was bored. And I wanted to have some fun." Arya replied with a cheeky smile.

"Can't you find amusement another way, instead of trying to bust my head open." Jon asked.

"No." Was her response. He stood for a moment as she stayed tangled around him, a long silence followed so long to give Arya the chance to tighten her grip on her brother.

"Do you plan to stay on my back all day or will you get off." He asked sarcastically not caring if his sister spent the day on his back, even if his back ached he wouldn't care feeling his sister's grip around him the girl that always made him smile.

"Hmm maybe. You'll just have to wait brother. I like being able to gaze at the many people below me." She stated with a grin.

"You'll need to be higher to do that. If you are goanna stay on my back I hope you don't mind if I run, I like to run in the morning." He declared as in an instant he grabbed hold of her legs a grip on her thighs, keeping her up taking off at a jog holding his sister up. He sprinted out of the library as fast as he could turning descending down the hallways several desolate hallways as they were filled to the sweetest tune Jon would always remember better than any music, more beautiful than any song his sister's laugh. He joined her laughs as he ran down further. He dogged and weaved past the many people as they curse him not caring as he listened to his sister's laugh. As they ran Jon saw Theon a yard before him.

"Hey Theon." Both Arya and Jon said in unison as they had done so many times before together. Theon turned toward them the last second to catch a glimpse of Jon bumping past him. Theon scoffed as he watched the two weirdest individuals he had ever meet, the bastard and the girl that never fit in. not only were they strange they were always near the other Theon trying his best to stay clear from their laughs.

Arya held on imaging her brother was a dragon and she was flying in the open blue sky.

"You're my dragon Jon. You're my fearsome fire breathing dragon, all cower in fear when they see you!" She yelled to Jon's laugh. He laughed his sister's imagination always amazed him and he played along, like he had done many times before.

"And you are my Targaryen queen. A woman as fierce as she is gentle. What does my queen command?" He asked still running.

"Roar my dragon. Roar so loud that everyone will hear your fearsome yell!" She yelled, her voice ringing far out into the vast Winterfell. Jon came to a screeching halt as he sucked in the air then with air in his lungs yelled out into the many halls his voice ringing as Arya cheered him on.

"Anyone who stands in my way will fear my dragons wraith." She yelled. With that Jon took off at a soar. Arya imagined Jon was a great colossal dragon like in the years of old and she was queen with a crown on her head, roaming the seven kingdoms on the back of her dragon. With the air flowing through her hair the dragon flapped its wings as it roared, its voice booming out into the air and Westores as men cowered down below. Nothing stood before her when her dragon was near. The vast lands were miles below her as the dragon breathed fire the smoldering heat hitting her. The scales felt warm against on her dragon and she felt at home, her dragon understood her better than anyone. With another roar he flapped his wings and they descended down into the vast green of the north through the clouds she could see her home from a far and many tiny little dots scattered throughout so small like ants. As they soared closer her dragon came to a sudden halt. The sky disappeared as she was brought back to reality, brought back to Winterfell the stone wall a limitation to her once vast kingdom. Before her no longer was Winterfell but her mother with a stern face, her eyes littered with anger as she starred at Jon.

"What are you two doing?" She asked furiously.

"Having fun." Arya answered quickly as her grip tightened around her brother, feeling his heart beat rapidly.

"What are you doing, bastard?" She asked Jon, her eyes piercing through him. Arya never once heard her mother speck his name, not once, she knew he was her half brother but to her she was her true brother more than the other's.

"I was playing games with my sister." He found his voice, causing Catelyn to smile.

"Aren't you too old to be playing games." Catelyn said darkly. Jon stood still his throat choked on his words as he felt his sister tighten her grip around him, her hand gripping his cloth.

"Come Arya you need to finish your stitching." She stated, not waiting for the bastard to speak.

"But." She stammered, hoping to spend the day with her brother, having more fun.

"Arya." Catelyn ordered with no arguments. With sorrow she hoped off her brother landing on her feet and she went past her brother as her mother turned and went down the hallway. Arya seeing her brother at the last moment his hand found hers, gripping her giving her a reassuring grasp as he leaned forward placing a kiss on her forehead. With a smile she hurried off causing Jon to smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four- A Lady, a Lord, and a Bastard

Jon always smiled when he gave his little sister affection. He stood for a moment then spun around heading for the courtyard to other business, a place he knew very well and business that he loved. Being a bastard at times had it's perks, no one paying him much mind, being able to stroll up and down the halls and even leave by his lonesome seeing what was beyond in the wolfs wood. Almost on a daily basis he left and went further beyond than anyone. Memories of when his group's adventures resurfaced yet he knew to his dismay that was no longer. Robb was heir and had his many duties and Sansa was now Sansa. When Jon closed his eyes he saw them playing in the snow, his sister Sansa mud on her face. Only it was a distance memory, a story from the past and he knew it well. At times he enjoyed the loneliness, at other times he sought to speak with someone. Arya was beside him countless periods yet even then at every sequence her mother tried to wrench her away like Sansa.

As he went down the hallway the sound of grunts and several cheers sounded from the courtyard. The voices grew louder as he descended, he knew the voices, his brothers. Staring down the stairs he stopped seeing near the armory stood young Bran in the mud holding a wooden weapon and wooden shield before him stood Robb with the same. Sitting on a stool Rcikon was off to the side laughing at the two. The courtyard was covered in dirt and mud showing signs of the recent and frequent of passing feet. The sky was bright as was the sun shining onto them.

Robb was showing Bran the proper way to parry taking it slow as he moved his weapon to his. Any patience that remained for Bran had slipped away, having no patience Bran charged swinging his weapon aimlessly at Robb showering him with thrusts from his much smaller body. His older brother slipped like an eel dogging every thrust and attack. Causing Bran to grow infuriated. With another swing Robb caught the weapon with his hand stopping all his brothers' force. With a loud yell Bran pulled his weapon away.

Jon saw his little brother fuming as he headed for them passing through the courtyard. Bran charged again towards Robb with a yell swinging with all his might to his brother, he missed his weapon with a downward thrust striking the dirt with all his weight falling to his knees with a huff as his weapon struck the dirt far from his target. He pulled it from the dirt as he gained his breath looking up he struggled to rise, and found his older brother standing before him a smile present. Jon leaned closer helping him back on his feet as he leaned forward towards his ear, whispering in his ear. Bran nodded several times with a smile, as Robb watched with inquisitive eyes.

"What are you telling him?" Robb asked receiving only mute silence from the two. Bran nodded again as he stood his wooden weapon before him as Jon stood closer placing his hand on brans shoulder.

"What did you say to him?" Robb asked his brother.

"Nothing." Said Jon with a self satisfied look upon his face.

"Fight me brother." Bran said gaining his brothers attention, suddenly bran attacked still unable to hit his brother the two spinning around the other. As Robb turned his back to Jon, the bastard wrapped his arm around his neck grabbing hold of him keeping him still. Robb trying to move, while Bran threw his body at Robb the two falling to the ground splashing in the mud together. Not wanting to be left out Rickon threw himself in with the others. Alone Robb could have threw Rickon or Bran but all together they laughed in the mud. The three flung together in a heap Jon laughing at all of them. Once mud had seeped into their clothes Robb pushed the two away, as Jon watched the three, he couldn't help but never stop his laughter, they were his family, a family Jon loved.

"You can't do that." Robb stated.

"What rules are there. On the battlefield you won't be fighting only one enemy, but hundreds." Jon stated.

"Aye hundreds. Not little boys". Robb replied as his hand dove into Rickon's hair mussing it up. Bran stood up not close to end a fight.

"Come brother I'm not yet finished. Another spar, Robb I won't stop until the morrow." Bran explained with a smile. Robb grinned and nodded in contentment.

"Fine but I've misplaced my trust with Jon."

"I'll be over in the armory, far from your way." He declared with a smile. Robb laughed and suddenly he was sparring again, as Jon traveled deep in the darkness of the armory many weapons masked the wall only one was his. Under a box he looked out back seeing he was alone and pulled his blade from underneath a small crate. He had forged it recently, a short thin blade. His sister's name day was to be soon upon him and his gift was in his hands, a gift for the girl. He sat down as he sharpened his weapon with an oil stone, Ser Rodrick always spoke you needed onto every day, keep your wits sharp and your weapon sharper and never stick it in the ground. He went back and sat down near the edge of the armory a view of his two brothers, he gazed over the Starks as they continued Robb trying to teach his brother only to no avail. Jon kept his oil stone grazing against his entire weapon.

As he sat there he felt eyes staring at him, recently he felt eyes piercing his body so often, he thought at times someone was following him. Adverting his gaze from the weapon in his hand, looking up he found a girl near the castle with long auburn hair, a girl he still loved, wearing a blue gown with several girls her age surrounding her. Her eyes found his eyes focused on him, but unlike every day it wasn't the piercing eyes he saw, yet it was empty, through as if the light had been shuffled out behind them. Only pain and sadness remained. It felt an entirety as their eyes gazed the other, he could see the sadness in her face unlike ever before, the snow falling into her hair. He saw her take a step towards him then halted. The moments passed and he never broke his gaze. After a long moment she tuned on a heel and went the other way breaking the gaze with him with a group of girls to her. Some of the girls looked disgusted. But he didn't care as he watched his sister move, the group of girls followed her close behind. They positively flocked to her whatever she went and Jon never wanted to hear their laughs, all of them kept their distance from the bastard. Although after so long he still wanted to hear the lady Sansa's laugh again. To share another adventure with her or venture far into the wolf wood. Only this was folly never again would she come with him.

The group of girls left the courtyard into the large castle the last reminisced of his sister. Sansa was no longer the sister he knew, days pass and he would never see a trace of her, she had been taught how to be a lady, how to be proper and by her mother, scorn him. Despite all of that some echo from his childhood and her laugh filled him with a love for her. it was that made the desertion that he knew to hurt more. She no longer saw him, he was just a ghost that pass. While still deep in thought lost in space Robb smacked him on the back with a though hand, Jon jerking forward.

"You still with us." He asked, Jon looking up to find the Stark's big grin.

"Yes." He replied.

"I grieve for you brother. You will never be able to best me again." Robb declared.

"Why is that?" Jon asked. Robb held his weapon up in the sun gleaming. "Just had it made. As sharp as ice." He declared with a smile present causing Jon to laugh.

"It still won't help." Jon avowed, gaining a better inspection of the large weapon.

"Yea you think so. Today I will best you." With that said, Jon stood grabbing the closest weapon he found, wrapping his naked fingers around the hilt pulling it from the scabbard. With his weapon in his right hand as did Robb the same. Standing in the center, the mud on his boots and the two began their dance of a duel.

Unknown to him Sansa departed and left her group of friends and watched from a balcony as her two brothers fought down beneath her. She wanted to be with them but she was now a lady of Winterfell and wanted nothing less than to please her mother. She watched her brother as he spun swinging his weapon wondering if Jon still missed her, she saw him so countless times she thought to run to him, to play and have fun again. Run in the dirt and mud and never be a proper lady but run out and use a weapon as days went. With a shake of her head she left and headed back to her friends.

In the night-

Jon settled in to a routine. Almost every day as night approached he would train in the courtyard. Jon spent the night in the faded courtyard he trusted this place a place he knew well. For many nights he enjoyed the moonlight and quiet with a weapon in his hand and nothing but to train. Nothing in his life felt more tranquil than with a weapon in his hand. Yet now the silence was broken. He stopped to the sound of footsteps, crunching in the snow. Turning around he found the unlikeliest person, his sister Sansa standing there nothing and no one, alone. Nothing was said as she stood a worried expression on her face. Years she spent trying to speak again and now she failed to remember what to say.

"What do you want? You don't want to catch a cold out here." He stated at her knowing he wouldn't find affection from her. She couldn't speak her throat was dry, everything stuck deep down unknown what to say after so countless years. Silence was all that was hers and she knew it well, as the moon shined on them.

"What?" He questioned, again waiting for an insult.

"You shouldn't be here at night. If mother finds out." She urged him.

"She's not my mother, or have you forgotten. I wouldn't see how you would. You always know and are pleased to retell me." He stated.

"That's not fair." She argued taking another step to the brother she no longer knew.

"Why would you care." He said harshness in his voice. She opened her mouth to say something but she didn't find her voice and turned leaving with resentment on her face. Jon shook his head and went to train feeling the coldness of the bitter wind pass through him. It was more bitter than days previous.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five- You Ease My Mind

No matter how they were, when they were together both always wore smiles. The world seemed to disappear and their troubles were nothing but a memory. No one knew the other unlike themselves, and neither fit in the same. Every day the two always beamed with the other, when no one else might convey the equivalent.

Jon sat on the edge of his bed in his room. In the dead of night, the moon shined down on the castle and filled the small room with the much needed light. Before him his sister Arya spun her feet, she twirled on the floor. The moon the only light in the room, shinning off her. Wearing her dress, she spun in the room a smile on her face, mocking her sister, her feet stomping the floor.

"Oh, look at my pretty twirling. Oh how great am I. Everyone gaze at me. Oh, Aren't I the prettiest thing you've ever seen." Arya mocked in a voice unlike her own. She spun in a circle mocking her sister as she bowed and twirled, meanwhile Jon laughing uncontrollably, his hand resting on his stomach. Sitting on the bed with his leg up and the other off his bed, he died in laughter, leaning back. With a great grin Arya jumped up on to the bed, sitting cross legged before her brother. With her smile she couldn't help but join Jon in the infections laughter. He always had this effect on her.

After a moment they calmed down and Jon mused her hair. "You do that to well." Jon declared, causing her to beam.

"It's easy when she does that every day." She stated. As they sat there Arya had pressing matters.

"Tell me again, what's out there… in the wolfswood? Every night you continuously head out by yourself and see copious amount of the wolfswood. While I see so little." She asked eagerly. Jon simply smiled as he leaned closer telling his sister all he knew and all he saw. Arya's eyes lighting up to the thoughts of an adventure and the woods. An adventure far from this place, a world unlike her own, a world where so much could happen. While her home was where she spent every waking moment, learning to be a lady. With no sense of satisfaction or mud and free. Learning to be courteous. Be gentle. Be polite. She loathed every moment of it. Out in the realm she could be, just be.

"Why won't you let me venture with you? Leaving by yourself, you need me by your side." She spoke hoping to glimpse what her brother did. "There is so much I want to see." She spoke easterly. Jon smiled but wouldn't risk it. No matter he needed to trust the forests himself, he knew the forests did put trust in anyone lightly. Becoming lost was a easy feat anyone could achieve.

"It's dangerous, even for you." He declared with a smile. Arya frowned at this, then grinned, her eyes large reliving much again.

"I'm quick." She insisted with a smirk. "You said it yourself." She professed and a smile curved his lips with a wide grin.

"Your quick I know. But if trouble we were to find us, you know how your mother would react. I can't take that chance." He declared. Looking back at the door he knew they shouldn't be awake any longer, the worst off situations running through his mind. "You need to get back to bed. It's late in the day. I suppose you are tired yourself."

"I'm awake, and, no one is aware. Every night no one catches me or, hears me." That much was true, every night she moved without a sound.

"It's almost dawn Arya. And besides, your brother needs to sleep." He said with a smile. She stood from the bed.

"Fine. Tomorrow you will change your mind." Arya responded and stood up and left him. With a smile he laid back and fell asleep.

As another day set, the sun rose over the darkened horizon, consuming it was the light. Jon sat in the large hall. The dust filled the hall as the sun shone, flowing through the small windows and stripping the floor. With a fork in hand he ate from his plate in the large hall where once the kings of old sat. No longer, the room was a shadow of its once power. Covered with no one as at the head table only Robb and Jon sat together. Both laughed speaking of the spars of recent. On the bench Jon couldn't contain his laughter as Robb made japes.

The two so deep with laughter neither noticed his sister Sansa whom came to a halt to their laughter. Smiling brightly she moved swiftly from the hall into the room. Standing in the doorway she smiled watching her half-brother laughing. After years she was tired of being far and distant and went to them. Silently down beside the table. Gently to Jon she sat down on the wooden bench alongside him and on the long bench as close as she could ease. Both Robb and Jon came to halt to gaze at Sansa. Jon didn't speak as he watched her sit down with a smile beside him, like a wolf with a lion the picture so foreign. He watched confused with a blank expression apparent on his face. More of this seemed to happen and he hadn't clue what to make of it.

"What are you doing?" He asked point blank as she turned to him.

"I'm breaking my fast with you." Sansa replied with a smile as she wrapped her fingers around her fork and took a bite. Unlike Robb, Jon never trusted her smile, as if she was hiding her true attention behind it. Ser Rodirk had told him sometimes a man could fall in witness. Jon didn't know what to make of that, he had little, to no experience with women, unlike his brother. He took another bite of his food in sullenness trying to make sense of his thoughts.

As the two sat, Robb watched the two together, he never witnessed the two speak. Let alone never utter a word. Unless he counted Sansa saying half-brother. Then they were the happiest brother and sister that ever lived. And she spoke to him every day. Although that was far from the truth. He didn't know two people who disliked the other more. And as he sat there in the room he didn't distinguish how long, sensing the erosion of the room around him. With a perspective of what was to come, knowing he sought to be distant from this. Abruptly he stood from the table leaving the two alone.

Jon noticed and watched his brother leave. "Where are you headed?" He asked turning towards him. Robb stopped mid movement to turn back.

"I've had my fill of food, and need the sun on my back." Was all that was said as Robb left. Once their brother disappeared into the halls out of the room, Sansa turned toward Jon a smile bright on her face, as was her eyes.

"You looked very pleasant in the courtyard yesterday with your weapon. I saw you with Ser Rodrick and how well you did with the other boys." Sansa spoke her voice like honey. Jon stopped in mid bite unable to eat his food. Looking over finding his sister with a smile on her lips. This wasn't just a compliant it was a compliant coming from his sister, the girl whom always gave him a cold shoulder and saw nothing before her when he was there, as if he was air itself.

Neither spoke a word the air so thin, as she kept the smile, that same smile he tried to read. With sharpened eyes he always thought she would probably call him some name at some point but it never came from her lips. Only she stayed close many times and only smiled around him. Still inspecting her face, he couldn't speak.

"Will you train on the morrow, with Jory?" Her gentle voice snapped him back to the living.

"Yes." He said unsure he heard her correctly. Shaking himself from his stupor he went back to his food.

"I would very much like to see you train." As she said this the rest of the family descended into the hall and came to the table. Jon looked up seeing his younger brothers and behind them his father. At the instant his father sat down, Jon stood up.

"May I be excused?" He asked his father.

"You do not need my permission Jon." His father stated and that was all Jon needed. He went and found the hallway. At the instant he stood from the table to the hall Sansa stood from the table.

As the days expired Jon found eyes following him more oft than he could distinguish. Any turn or corner he found his sister Sansa. As days went, more often Jon found the once distant Sansa speaking with him as if the past few years did not exist. Almost every day she was there, in front of him like a unbreakable. Where she once would have pretended he was just a shadow in the darkness, now unlike herself she beamed a smile and greeted him. She always greeted him gently, spoke to him, asking him what he was to do. Nothing distinct herself. It was not the insults he found, but a joyful laugh that he had soon forgotten. Even if he missed it, it felt wrong to trust. Subsequently so long every smile was another he couldn't trust. With the countless years and insults, he didn't see why she would like him now. A uncertainty set in, that was persistent. She was probably planning a joke or something like that, he thought. Only that couldn't be farther from the truth.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six- Arya's Name Day

With Arya-

She dozed deep in sleep flying through the air, below her she saddled her dragon breathing fire, bright burning threw. Only then did she realize she was riding the dragon, flying with wind in her air. The world was nothing to her as she felt her dragon a part of her. Coming closer to the ground men stood before her. All rose their weapons as they screamed her name. She gazed the field seeing men wearing all red and men wearing scales on their armor, all raised their shields as they screamed her. With a weapon by her side she gazed over the vastness of men. Her dragon took flight flapping his wings but as she took flight the sky began to shake. Her body shook being awoken in night, finding her room.

"What, what is it?" She asked groggy, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Being to early in the morning for her like. Eyes still blurred and open seeing vagueness as she awoke. Rubbing her eyes again the room becoming clear by the second. Blinking several times she found her brother standing before her with a bright smile on his face. In his leather clothes ready for a day. Confused she propped herself on her shoulders looking at him like he was a idiot with a propped eyebrow.

"You know I was sleeping." She said annoyed.

"Arya. It's your name day and I wanted to give you something." He stated leaning close to her with a beam. Instantly as if a dragon's egg rested on her lap, her eyes opened wide as she sat up on the bed in an prompt ready. Nothing had ever made her move as quick.

"A present. A present for me?" she asked repeatedly feeling the goosebumps on her body as the excitement rushed through her. Not every day was her name day and any present from her brother was special. Color rose in Arya's face and her heart jumped with pure joy with a face of delight she couldn't help but grin.

"You have to be quiet." Jon whispered as quiet as a mouse. Looking into his sister's face he saw the delight that made any dull day better.

She nodded and stood up but instead of grabbing her clothes she found something better. On her feet, she jumped up wrapping her arms around him with a hushed laugh. He accepted her with a grin, wrapping his arms around her, he wouldn't waste time and let Arya be trouble about her.

"You have to grab warmer clothes. We can't waste a moment." She didn't listen as her grasp on her brother tightened.

"Arya." He insisted. She snapped out of it and let go, dropping to the floor landing on her feet.

"Hurry." He stated quickly. She nodded with glee and headed for her dresser as Jon departed the room keeping an eye out for anyone. In no time she pulled her warmer clothes over her head and was dressed. Like a Wolf after it's kill she flew out of the room her heart beat quickened. Each separate beat seemed to echo through her as she ran through the hall to her brother, finding him leaning against a wall. Near the wall her brother waited and the dim darkness surrounded him.

"You ready?" He asked. She nodded.

"Come on you have to hurry and not create so much as a sound." He whispered in the dark hallway. A nod of glee confirmed it and he grabbed her hand. They proceeded off to there the destination, unknown to her. For all she identified they were headed for the stables, yet she recognized her brother would have some other adventure planned. Something special.

In silence they journeyed further down in desolate hallways, always booming during the day. At night no one but soft creaks which Jon was grateful for. They moved forward only finding darkness after him. Arya at his heels with anticipation her heartbeat quickened with each step and seemed to echo louder as she ran through the hallway. Worried someone would hear, her eyes darting at every corner finding no guards or in fact anyone. Only the darkness remained all she saw in her vision as it clouded before her and behind concealing anything. In the darkness she only followed the outline of her brother leading her further. Down the steps near the courtyard Jon dropped to his knee, his face pressed to the wall looking out into the courtyard.

Arya came to a halt pressing her back to a wall before the courtyard. The problem, guards went back and forth every few minutes. Every corner was another someone could catch them. Jon gazed the walls seeing no problems before them. That didn't mean they had all day however. Jon looked back at his sister.

"Stay close. Be quick and stay quiet." with a nod of glee they took off. The two went down the dim hall towards the courtyard.

"Where are we headed?" She asked.

"Out of the castle. I want to show you something." Jon urged. Arya smiled brightly. Out of the castle and in unknown a place she never saw. A place she had pleaded constantly to see.

Unknown to the two atop the balcony, Sansa was currently standing, the same balcony with a view of the courtyard. Beholding every morning waiting for the sun. Gazing the sky above, seeing the rising sun over the horizon, she watched in the morning wanting for that bright hue to rise. With waves on the horizon she watched for that beautiful sight that swallowed everything else.

Although she couldn't help but find something in particular in her eyesight. In the corner of her eye seeing two moving shapes in the night moving through the courtyard. Closer inspection she found her half-brother in dark leather and her younger sister in her cloak running through the courtyard. Many times she knew the two went on adventures just like her when she was younger. Watching close the two moved towards a door leading out as Jon pulled it. Sansa eyes darted to the wall finding no guards then back to the door. They were gone nothing left but the footprints. Concerned, with hast she took off after them, pulling up her dress she hurried towards the two. Down the steps she hassled towards the same door.

Emerging from the door she ran into the bitter coldness of the north. No torch to guide her way or consume the cold. However she trended on, the winds constantly smacked against her face. Grasping her cloak more tightly keeping it to her chest. The trees before her told her eyes nothing of Jon and Arya. Gazing down at the ground she found footsteps and quickly followed their trail deeper into the dusk, unknown where she was headed.

Meanwhile Jon and Arya were already deep in the woods by the time Sansa caught up to the two. Arya laughed as she travelled with a pace beside her brother in the snow. The summer was nothing as in the north snow was constant as loyalty and the ground was softened by light snowflakes. Arya nor Jon had received trouble moving through the woods.

The smell of soot and wood filled Arya's nose as her eyes gazed over the old trees. Never being this far from her home. Their was no doubt in her mind, no one to tell her what she had to do out here and alone with her brother she could forget everything. Yet that wasn't true as the sound of a twig snapped which carried a long way behind them. Both heard the crack causing them to halt. Worried some lone guard had noticed them without Jon's knowledge. At a standstill Jon and Arya came whirling back to find someone else. Someone neither had thought.

Through the shadows, their sister stumbled through the braches back to them. Snow covered her dress and her face flushed as she embraced her cloak desperately with no shelter to protect her from the wind. The cloak had a rip as she held it close to her from the bitter cold, that tried to consume her. Arya smiled brightly, she looked as far from her comfort zone as she could think, her face red and out of breath seeing her breath in the air. Sansa stumbled over a large branch resting on the ground and stopped finding both her sister and brother watching her immobile. Neither spoke as they stood watching, speechless.

With contempt she stood straight, she swallowed her silence. Here in the woods the three stood silent, the silence surrounding them only of the wind swirling around them. Neither Arya nor Jon uttered a word for a small moment. The three looked at the other for first time, all three together if only for a moment. The wind breezed past them blowing Sansa's auburn hair swirling in the snow around them as no one spoke.

"What are you doing out here by yourselves?" Sansa finally spoke as Arya turned to her sister.

"I would ask you the same." It was Arya who shot observing her sister, anger clear in her eyes. Sansa dismissed her sister as she stepped over a branch, closer to them, her feet crunching in the snow.

"Here in the woods are filled with the wildings that can harm you or kill you. You should come back with me, and neglect whatever you were doing." She pleaded, her face flushed with the bitter cold.

"We will be fine. Me and Jon can handle ourselves, unlike some. I think it would be improper of a lady like yourself to meddle with things so far below you." Arya spoke, standing closer with a face as if she had bitten something that went bad. Even as Sansa stood a head taller that never stopped Arya stomping her ground before her sister. Always she thought of her older sister with malice and Sansa was the same. They starred at each other annoyed with that intensity of anger.

"I don't want you to get hurt." She alleged to both but mostly to Jon

"Trust me, will be fine." Arya sated.

"You don't realize where you're headed." She pleaded as a gust of wind ran threw her causing her to pull her cloak closer. "And its freezing out here, you'll for a certain freeze to death." Both Arya and Jon gazing back at the other sharing a smile.

Nothing seemed to convince them causing Sansa to grow frustrated. "You shouldn't be running out here. What if mother and father were to find out?" She asked.

"We don't care… Let's head further brother. Sansa needs to please mother. Or she needs to stich something for the septa." Arya mocked with pierced eyes, Sansa returned it with a glare. Their eyes scowled at the other as they did so often.

Both Jon and Arya went deeper as Sansa huffed, her breath in the cold air. "I won't listen to you Arya. I know you don't wish to be in trouble. You know mother will be cross." Her voice cracked as she arose after them. This caused both to stop again and Jon turned around, back to see his sister blush.

"Will you speak of this to your mother?" Jon asked with no hint of emotion, unlike himself. The sudden question from her brother whom had stayed silent caused her to turn bright red.

"No." she replied truthfully.

He didn't know why he said it, he guessed he wanted the sister he always loved, the same sister who wished to be a knight just like him when he was young. To journey across the realm as knights and fight in tourneys, like hedge knights.

"You could depart with us." Jon stated as another gust of wind pushed through him. Both Arya and Sansa stood shocked by this. Silence ran threw them for longer than any knew.

"What!?" Arya questioned as she pulled at her brother a shocked look upon her face.

Sansa couldn't respond as she wanted nothing more. They were the words she wanted to hear for a while now. A long held breath followed. Only she wasn't ready to find trouble. She still wished to be a pleasant lady and their was no world where she could be a knight, she knew the truth of that. For a moment she considered her answer. But eventually it was the same.

"I can't." she declared starring at her brother. This triggered Arya to smile.

"See Jon, she doesn't want to. She's a proper lady." Arya declared to her sister. Sansa eyed the two suspiciously knowing the stubbornness and gave up. With a huff she turned leaving the two to their fun, knowing she couldn't.

Jon watched for a moment, the snow and trees closing around her, as they did so often. His sister disappearing before him and leaving him as before. Vanishing in the distance until she was gone, only a shadow in the rising sun.

Arya starred at her brother standing still. "Jon." Arya uttered breaking him from his mind. With this the two ran further, deeper in the woods.

Jon knew these woods better than any, he recognized every branch every turn and he knew his trail to his destination. Arya stayed close for she was in the unknown. It was cold and silent in these woods, the sun orange as it illuminated the wood giving it a beauty Arya never witnessed, taking in the sights. The trees were covered in the soft padding of snow. Her eyes glistening in the beauty around her. It was eerie nothing but trees and roots, nothing but sounds bristle of leafs and the swirl of the wind. The wind made the sound like clacking teeth of the ghosts of a thousand men.

The sun on the horizon broke the shadows away as they came to a halt, and stopped at a looming cave. The mouth of the cave was clouded with trees and not a sound came from it's depths. Arya was interested as she gazed at the mouth nothing yet the darkness inside.

Jon looked over at his sister. "I've visited here for years now." He told and Arya moved forward, Jon went with his sister forward down towards the cave's mouth.

"Wait." He told before she departed further. "The path is uneven so will go slow." He told her. She nodded following her brother. The sound silent and the darkness around her as she headed down a dirt path before her. The floor was uneven further down the trail and Jon halted. Dropping down to his knees.

"Hop on." Arya didn't need to be told twice as she wrapped her arms around his body and he stood up. Jon brought her deeper into the shadow down a long twisting path that grew colder and darker each step, deeper into the depths. A constant darkness still greeted her eyes. Around her damp and chill. She imagined they were headed to some castle underneath earth.

Reaching further Arya eyes widen in amazement. The small trail opened up to a cave the size of the great hall of Wintefell. A small pound rested against the back wall. At the ceiling there was a slight open giving the cave brightness shining light from the sun. The pond and sunlight was deeply refreshing from the snow. Against the floor, torches were scattered against the walls for every few meters. After a moment Arya hoped off her brother to look over the wide cave the size of the hall in the castle. It was warm inside but dim, Arya couldn't see much before her. With a few torches laid Jon went and lit them, giving the cave small and light.

Gaining her vision she found her brother in the torchlight. "This is beautiful." Arya insisted.

"It is isn't it. For years I come here on days and I wanted to show you. It can be ours, and only ours. Our place where no one can tell us what we are or aren't." he stated. Arya took in the cave and thought of it lovingly.

"Is this my present?" She asked.

"No. you deserve much more than just this. Close your eyes and no peeking. Promise." he said.

"Why can't I look?" she asked.

"Promise." he answered.

"Fine I promise." with this Arya closed her eyes standing still in the cave. The only noise that followed was of her brother as he pushed away a layer of rocks that had been piled up by his own hands. She then heard the sound of a blade scraping on steel.

"Open your eyes." With her eyes open the realization washed over her as she gazed at a small blade in his hand.

"It's mine?" she asked and he nodded.

"It's your present. For your name day." He told and she smiled.

"Here take it. It isn't a toy." He handed her the small blade by the hilt with a smile watching her. She grasped the weapon. The fine steel blade was sharp with leather covered the hilt. The weapon shined bright and it felt smooth beneath her fingers. The leather fitted her grip perfectly as it was light as a feather. In all it was the greatest present she ever received.

"Do you like the balance?" He asked hopefully.

"I think so." She replied sheepishly she grasped it in her hand but at first she thought of her brother's recent name day.

In turn he noticed her sorrow in her face. "What is it?" he asked.

"I should have brought you something for your name day." This triggered a smile to form his lips.

"You don't have to, your give me a present everyday." He smiled genuinely believing that her presence was at many times better than any gift. That smile or her laugh gave him a ease. Knowing how cheesy it sounded to his sister but if it weren't for her he knew he would be alone for days as Robb had his many duties.

Without a word or a reason she jumped up again as she wrapped her arms around her brother not wanting to let go ever. Arya related into his embrace for a moment letting the calming of his heartbeat become hers. She leaned over and plated a kiss on his cheek. He laughed as he kept her off the ground. For a moment both laughed, while one day neither would see but a shade of death. That wouldn't be for a time.

"I have another present." He said.

"Another present?" She asked her smile couldn't express her exultant emotion.

"Hold out your hand." He went to the edge of the cave where a cloak rested. Flipping the cloak over he grabbed two wooden swords. With the light wood, he turned and tossed one to Arya. Before she knew it, it flew towards her. Just before it fell she caught in her hand although it slipped from her grasp, she dropped it to a smile from Jon. With a frown she looked at him.

"I wasn't ready." She declared.

"You have to be. Your enemies won't wait for you." With a smile she grabbed her wooden sword in right and held the light steel weapon in her left hand. Although the wooden sword felt firm, she gazed over at the toughen steel seeing the glimpse of the steel.

"Why can't I use this?" She said rising the steel weapon, with a gleeful smirk.

Seeing that smile in her eyes, Jon took a step back. "Because I would much rather keep my blood inside me. I don't plan to bleed to death." He declared with a smirk.

"I wouldn't hurt you. Much." She quipped.

"Good. That makes me feel much better." He answered. "We start with wooden weapons like everyone else. Besides no one your age spars."

"Okay. But soon we should train with blunt blades." She sheathed needle and placed it on the ground. With it on the ground Jon stood before her.

"Let's see your stance." Arya stood straight the weapon before as she stood still. He came closer and gently moved her leg and arm in proper position.

"Good. Keep your body up." As she stood straight Jon turned before her a wooden sword in his hand pointed towards her.

"Hit me." he spoke. She tightened the grip in her hand as she starred at her brother. Not a word spoken she lunged driving all her force into her attack, lunging to the side. Forward Jon brought his own sword to hers blocking her attacks. His feet danced so swiftly around the cave as Arya lunged her body at her brother. He answered her strikes with his own. Arya twisted around trying to meet her brother as he was quick himself.

She had witnessed her brother spar firsthand and saw how fast he would be. For hours Arya kept to it, the sounds of wood hitting the other was all to hear. Sweat ran down her. Proof of her dedication, her never wanting to halt. All the while the one whom never wanted to break a spar was before her. She knew how often the sword was in his hand. Every day he held a sword as an extension of his arm. And with his knowledge he gave all of it up to his sister.

"Bring it down with all your weight. Great." She listened.

"Don't get into a routine. Don't keeping doing one, two. One, two. The enemy will follow the routine and see it. Make it unaware." He stated. She nodded as another hour came and went.

"Go slow. Slash. Pivot." He told. By now both covered in mud and sweat, yet neither were craving this to end. It was simply to fun.

"You have the advantage. You're quick. Use that advantage wherever and whenever." Jon told. Arya listened with open ears as she did as told. Never once did she halt. Never once did she complain as her first training session, she was more than jubilant. Although Arya found a different brother where he always was joyful with her she found him being firm with her.

Hours later Jon sat on the ground with Arya laying beside him with her head resting against his chest, both were covered in sweat and dirt as the light shined down on them. Arya rested her head on her bother as they both looked up at the sky. Here in this cave she knew this day was one she would always be fond of. That did not mean the next day would be however.

"On the marrow I have more sewing with septa Mordane." Arya said with a grown.

"You'll do fine. You'll do better than me." he said looking down at her.

"Of course I will. You wouldn't be able to stitch anything. Probably stich yourself to something." She mocked with a smirk staring up at him. He mussed her hair, the way he did so often. She didn't push him away. He was here and she never wanted to head home. They sat in silence Jon thinking of the wall.

"Benjen came to visit. He spoke to me about the watch again." As Arya heard this she couldn't stand him always speaking of the watch all the time. After hearing him speak of the watch for the first time she read up on the men who lived on the wall. Finding they seldom left their posts and never father a family, never live a life only took orders. A life far from her.

"So." she asked anger in her tone.

"The watch I might be something I wouldn't be a bastard to them." he spoke earnestly.

"You're not a bastard." she declared while she sat up before him, anger in her eyes.

"We are not in Dorne little sister and I'm a bastard in north."

"Why does it matter. We are together. I don't see you as a bastard but a brother." She spoke and this caused a smile to slip his lips. Unlike anyone she made him smile.

"I'm glad to have you beside me. On the morrow I promise we will train again. But we should head back home everyone will be waking up in the morning." He stated. With that the two headed back towards the mouths entrance when Arya caught a glimpse of a carven.

"Wait." she stated coming to a halt.

"What?" he asked coming back to his sister.

"What's down this cavern?" She asked looking off into the endless cave.

"I don't know." He answered.

"You never departed this way?" She asked.

"I don't know why but there something eerie down there. It gives me the creeps." He spoke. Causing Arya to laugh at her brother.

"What, are you scarred of a ghost?"

"No. It's just something weird." He spoke with a smile.

"Come on. Your little sister will be right next to you." she mocked with a smirk. Jon huffed and grabbed a torch. He held a torch and lead her further. She followed him down deeper into a cave.

"Follow me." Deeper along into the carven they halted finding a dead end. On the floor however under rocks a large cloak rested. Arya closed the distance and crouched down beside it, she pulled the rocks and the cloak over. Greeted to a full set of large heavy armor. A full set of armor laid there. A breastplate with white paint and red lining. Beside it a helmet with a curved top and visor with air holes with the same paint, also a bow. And lastly a pair of swords laid against the floor. It was here where all this laid waiting for another.

"Jon look at this." Arya stated shocked at her discovery. Jon eased beside his sister seeing the armor and something caught his eye. Seeing the Valyrian sword Jon dropped to his knees.

"They look like their Valyrian steel." Unknown to Jon the bow was of Queen Rhaneys Targaryen's, known as the sun piercer. Besides it this was the sword once King Ageon Targaryen's, known as Blackfrye used for hundreds of years but kings of the realm. And finally the sword once Queen Visenya Targaryen's, named dark sister. All of which were thought forgotten but no longer.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven- Sansa's frustration

It was the brightest day Jon could recall, sunlight was glowing bright on his face. A few clouds filled the sky but did nothing to block the vast sun. With the sun on his face, Jon sat outside at the bottom of the steps leading out of the castle into the woods. Alone, before the woods he held his sword by the hilt in his right hand resting against his leg, honing his sword with a whetstone in his left hand. The sound of scrapes lingered with each graze.

The sword was continuously close by and remained out of sight from the likes of anyone. Only him and his sister knew of their existence, discerning any sight would bring unneeded attention. He kept it close, concealing it at all times. Although their was something about the sword. Jon felt attached to it and nothing ever fit his hand better afore this. The grasp on the sword known as Blackfrye fit him unlike any other blade. His strike and stance seem to come with ease.

The sword was sharp and Jon wanted to keep it that way. The slow scrape of stone on steel carried a long way. With each scrape Jon steadied his hand, his whetstone resting against the sharp edge. His eyes lingered on the steel, seeing the stone was doing next to nothing to the already razor-sharp sword. Whilst deep in thought he did not catch the man's impending footsteps from behind until they closed the distance and rested before Jon.

"If you keep that up, there will be nothing left." A familiar voice behind Jon said. Jon turned behind him to find his uncle looming over him, a smile on his lips.

Before him he stood in all black as a crow did, his weapon at his belt and a damper a man of the watch carried with him. Instantly Jon stood on his feet and his uncle wrapped his arms around his nephew. Giving him a hard pat on the back. Any visit from his uncle was a good one and Jon was always pleased to greet him. After a moment he stood back keeping a hand on his shoulder. Benjen saw his nephew as his own.

"How is my nephew on this fine day?" His uncle asked brightly. Jon returned it with a smile.

"Better, uncle." Jon alleged with a smile. Benjen gave a reassuring grasp to his nephew. As he did this however he noticed the bright sword, sunlight glimpsed off the blade in Jon's hand. It was bright with a gold hilt and unlike any he witnessed, nor had seen the like in Jon's hand before. Or even in anyone's hand, a beautiful sword. Benjen's eyes could not depart the fine vivid sword, it was stunning.

With the suspicion in his uncle's face Jon sheathed his weapon in advance before he could say a word.

"I see you have a new sword." Benjen said as Jon had nothing to reply. No one knew about it, he felt thick to carry it out for anyone to see. Benjen gazed over the now sheathed striking sword.

"Where did you discover this? It does not look castle forged." Benjen asked. Jon kept silent as his lips stayed shut.

"This. I have always had this." Jon stated casually wrapping the belt back around his waist where it felt best. Benjen could only smile knowing better.

"Fine keep your secrets. But if I were you, I would keep it hidden then." Benjen stated with a grin and Jon returned it. "Come nephew. Talk with me. There is much I wish to hear." The two left the woods and descended towards the depths of the castle walls. Benjen smiled gazing over his once home, no longer. A home of the watch waited him. A home with no warmth to greet him but a icy chill. And his nephew was to be a man like him. A man to greet the cold happily. "I see you honing your sword. No man of the watch can only be decent at sword and arm." Jon knew that well. "You neglect using a bow. A ranger needs to be proficient in all."

"I haven't." Jon declared as he loosed more arrows than he could count.

"Words are wind. Let's see it then." Benjen said as they left the confounds of the woods, their footsteps took them through the castle's depths towards the courtyard, both carried smiles.

Meanwhile with Sansa-

Sansa sat in a small stuffy room, so small it would take only a few people holding hands to reach around. A gleaming sea of wood covered the floor with a bright rug to cover the wood. The bright windows on the far side of the room shined with sunlight she never perceived. The sunlight causing the shadows to run back to the corners of the room. A place she would rather find herself. Around her girls older and younger sat in different bright color gowns. All held a needle in hand, sewing embroider. Opposite her the septa sat close to young Martha, Jory's daughter helping her with her cross-stiches a frown very much on her face. The septa always wore a frown she noticed.

While the septa spoke, her best friend Jeyne pool sat on her right side whispering in her ear every so often causing her to smile. To her left her little sister sat. Sansa noticed more oft there were bags under Arya's eyes, with a lack of sleep. Knowing she must have stayed up late with her brother. On one occasion she found her in the hallway covered in dirt, grime, and a smile to put it all together. Immanently telling her she needed to wash herself. Arya simply went pass her without a word as if she didn't exist. Heading off into the woods every night to some unknown location she did not know. Their was also a brighten beam she couldn't deny in her sister, she was more pleased with every turn of the sun.

Few days she had half the thought to join them, to journey far from here, but untimely it ended the same. That was not for her, and she needed to remind herself that often. Although that did not break that crave deep down. And with this knowledge she kept her lips shut.

Sansa looked back, staring at her stiches. They were pleasant and straight. Joy spread through her when the septa voiced how steady her hands were. Her fingers always with grace. Everything came to her easy. By now she had sewn so many times, her stiches always finished a flower or a nice sky. Instead of a flower she thought to differ. Stitching a sword in the cloth. A sword made of bronze she thought. Reminiscing of the bronze sword her and Jon found in the murky cave together. Jon was so pleased with himself, with such a bright grin, she couldn't help but feel happy. She still received Robb's laughs at him and she could feel Jon's reassuring grasp as they ran back home. To speak of the sword with each other. Coming up with stories of some lone knight who held the sword. A mystery knight who fought for his love and died, but not before he felt her grasp in his arms. While in thought her little sister groaned under her breath.

Looking over she saw her little sister with much trouble about her, the septa looming over her casting a shadow over Arya's face. She heard some of the girls sniggering at her, all their eyes on her. More oft she heard them make japes, that she was a bastard like her brother or they called her horse face. Oft her sister did not listen, but it was becoming more common.

"Come Arya you need to do much better. This is uneven." The septa told to a collection of sniggering from the girls around her. Sansa could sense her sister's unease. Arya's eyes darted the room finding the judgments on her. She thought to turn the discomfort away from her sister.

"Septa how is mine?" Sansa asked in a pleasant tone. The septa turned away having the desired affect from Arya and towards Sansa with a smile on her face. Permanently pleased with her lady.

"Of course Sansa- closer inspection however the septa gasped, shocked at what she saw. "My, my, a weapon. Why?" the septa asked resting her hand against her chest, shocked.

"For a knight." Sansa sated looking up. The Septa only shook her head in distain.

"It is pretty Sansa, but a sword is no place for a lady." The Septa told.

"Oh. Of course. Forgive me." She said in a pleasant tone. She lied. Looking over she found her sister eyeing her with piercing eyes. Sansa simply looked back down. After a time she left, her and Jeyne went through the many warm halls of Winterfell.

Sansa went through the hall, her dress and long hair flowed behind her, in the late afternoon sunlight. The sun shined against her face at every window as they went. It felt so warm against her face. Down the hall they ascended with a grace, eternally a elegance. Guttering torches beside them and guards in heavy dark grey armor greeting her at every hall. Her friend kept pace besides her, wearing her bright gown. The halls were wide enough to allow Jeyne and Sansa to walk side by side after they left the little room with room to breathe. As they went, they reminisced of the prince. With little to speak of him.

"Is there much you know of the prince?" Jeyne asked.

"No, little if any at all." She declared, she had never met him and her mother said she was to marry him. To be a queen of the seven kingdoms.

"I assume he is gallant and will make a fine king. Of course you will make a beautiful queen with no better king. A man who will treat you better than any other. With a love that will be sung in a dozen songs and be like no other." As her friend said this Sansa caught a glimpse of the courtyard where her brother stood in the snow. A longbow almost the size of him was held in Jon's left hand. With a arrow he pulled back the string and let loose, the arrow hitting a target before him. The conversation became blurred as her eyes remained on him. Her uncle's laughs followed as he slapped his nephew on the shoulder. Her uncle yelled something she wasn't quite sure from this distance, the wind blurred their voices. Only it had the effect for a smile to form on her brother's face. It brought her back to when she was young seeing his smile so often. Yet she never found it anymore nor her uncle continuously beside him then. Now however at all times he was visiting with his nephew. Uncle Benjen as well held a bow and the two took rotations loosing arrows both hitting their targets. With her uncle the thoughts of the watch were always close by. A shadow behind Jon that never dissipated. The place she knew her brother was fond of. A place where she may never follow. A wall at the end of the realm.

She hoped he never left, he was older now and she knew how oft Benjen visited. It had an effect on her brother. Time wasn't on her side she distinguished. She knew that better seeing how frequently Benjen was here soon her brother would be far from her and she wouldn't see his smile. Soon he would be far from her.

"Sansa." Jeyne asked breaking her from her thought, as her friend stared off into the distance.

"Yes?" She asked, finding her friend staring at her confused. "Yes Joffery comes from a pleasant family, and I will do no better." Sansa said without thought.

Jeyne starred at her confused, with a raised eyebrow. "What is it Sansa? You are not like yourself. You know you can tell me." Jeyne asked concerned coming closer.

"It's nothing." Sansa lied.

Jeyne nodded and looked at the courtyard. "There's your half-brother in the courtyard as always. He wishes to be a knight I don't know how far a bastard can hope to become one." Jeyne said in a mocking tone, as all her friends always spoke.

"Once I wanted to be a knight." Sansa blurted without thought. Jeyne could only smile.

The rest of the day was pleasant as she had her favorite, lemon cakes for desert and spoke with her many friends. Soon the day turned to night and the clouds descended over the sky.

Sansa went into her room laying down on her bed she found sleep hard. Turing and tossing nothing brought the dreams she desired. Her father spoke to think of something and eventually her mind would drift. In time the room swam away, nothing and no one but a darkness to fill a void. She laid alone nothing but darkness surrounded her, consuming every breath. Although she was not alone. Around her shapes ascended the darkness and closed in, themselves closer, shadows without faces. The shadows laughed at her as they surrounded her. She couldn't move no matter how hard she tried.

But there was something else. A fire that formed before them, bright with searing embers, swirling orange, Sansa turned and watched as it consumed all of the darkness. A fire so bright and large. Eyes wide with a glimmering embers in her pupils. A fire so warm it filled her with a delight. And behind it Jon stumbled forward towards her, wearing leather and a sword in his grasp. The shadows standing around her became still, seizing their laughs, finding her brother. Before them she heard steel filling the air as dozens unsheathed their weapons. Looking side to side all held weapons were ready, in a stance. Then they charged him.

What followed the sound of blade cutting flesh filled the air as her brother drove his sword into the shadows stomach the point protruding from his back, dark blood pouring onto the darkness. Turing to his side he cut down another shadow with ease. Their blood splashed the ground and onto his body. The several shadows danced back and forth slashing meeting the bastard's blade. Her brother parrying, striking and killing with a ferocity. Not sitting by, she tried to rise up to help him. Only she realized with horror additional shadows took the others place. Keeping her still, and from her brother. Her eyes darted back to the blur of moving bodies, her brother spinning and slashing a shadow through his throat. Smell and sound of death filled her nose and filled her ears. Every shadow who charged him had the misfortune to meet his blade with a shriek or a scream. With each strike and slash. A shout followed, filling the air consuming all, with rage and sorrow. Her heart skipped a beat she caught glimpse of his eyes no longer a joy, but filled with a fire, a fire that consumed his pupils she never glimpsed. Jon's sword was brought forth and slashed a shadow in half, the shadow's torso fell forward as he dropped down to the darkness.

As quick as they arrived the shadows dissipated just the same. Jon staggered dropping a step, blood dripping down his battered body as he stumbled forward. His legs moved back and forth. Dropping to his knees the sound of a bang filled her ears. Before her, he let go of his sword, falling and rattling to the floor. Blood of his and others enclosed his body. It ran down his skin gradually his body in a sicking way. With cuts covered his body, dead men laid strewn all around him.

He looked up to her. Their eyes met. No longer the bright beam she knew but a desperation and anger in his eyes. As he gazed over her, his face contorted in pain and sadness. Starring at each other, his hand extended forward, reaching for her. Without thought she leaned forward, to feel his grasp. But felt a tug on her body keeping her from him. No matter how hard she tried to feel his grasp again there was unbreakable chain keeping her from him, nothing worked. He might as well been on the either side of the realm. He was right there, yet still so far. As she strained to reach him more bodies arose into existence all laying on the floor, pools of blood to soften their graves. With the bodies around him additional blood embraced his body, masking him in a disgusting amour.

All the while his arm stretched forward nearly reaching her, his fingertips just pressing against her own. His face filled in agony. Hearts pumping faster. "Sansa." His voice was gentle but pained as never before. A softness to it but agony as well. Filled with a draught she never heard. His fingertips almost touched her, desperately she tried to throw herself forward to feel his grasp around her. For him to wrap his arms around her. Only more shadows came from the darkness slowly ascending and dragged her away. Her throat felt dry, she couldn't scream but only watch as her brother stood as a helm fell onto his face. He stood up and without thought cut down more shadows until the darkness consumed her. The fire went and her brother stood there then was gone. She was alone again in darkness. No one, nothing to her. A darkness where no one was by her side.

Her eyes open finding the ceiling above with the only image of her brother battered and bloody in her mind. Her heart was beating faster as she couldn't escape that image of death. Her room felt darker than ever before. The sun had sunk below whilst the moon shined upon the castle. Throwing her legs over the bed she felt the sweat running down her spine. She couldn't stand the darkness of the room. Out of the room she made her way to the courtyard. There she found emptiness. Knowing where else she might find her brother. Down halls flickering torchlight pierced the darkness. Sansa made her ascent up the tower. At the doorway she stopped. Finding him, no blood or cuts to cover his body.

Jon sat deep reading a book of the dragon knight's battle. Deep in the book he didn't notice his sister at the doorway. Sansa gained her composure, taking a breath and came forth. With a breath she stood atop the stair before the room.

With a creak he looked up finding her long auburn hair as she gazed over a shelve of different color books. Never once did Jon find Sansa in this library. "You're up late." He stated. She turned back as if she just noticed him for the first time.

"And so are you." She stated. She grabbed a random dark leather book and sat down beside him. Opening to a random page she read the first few words. It was a book about a man using wild fire trying to summon a dragon back to life. Silence sat in and the two sat alone nothing not a peep to grace the air. Every so often she stole a glance at her brother whom was deep inside his book. The two sat in silence, a awkwardness in the air.

Jon couldn't help seeing his sister stare at him oft almost every day she was there and had to finally say it. No more moving around it, he placed his book down on his lap and looked over at her with every intention to find what she wanted.

"What?" he asked. Her eyes departed something about within the book to find her brother's eyes on her.

"Nothing." Was all that was said, staring at him.

His eyes narrowed. "You're staring." He stated. She hesitated and thought of something to say.

"I only mean to say, I saw you with a bow, with uncle Benjen. You seemed very proficient." She said pleasantly almost regretting it the moment the words left her mouth.

"Tell me what it is you want. You've been staring at me, I know you have. What?" He injected tired of this. Wanting to know her true intentions. She bit her lip.

"Nothing, I'm reading." Stiffing she didn't respond with no change in her expression. Jon knew it was a lie. With this he stood up and left the room, leaving her alone with nothing but the torches guttering. For a moment she sat there watching as he left. With hast she settled her book on a table then followed out of the library to see he was gone. Descending the stairs, the steps felt longer as she went.

She found him in his room with his back turned to her. He was there and she was no longer waiting. A thousand thoughts ran through her mind at once. She missed their conversations, she missed how much they spoke. Tired of this, tired of everything. It never felt the same without him, nothing seemed the same. Missing how she was able to tell him everything on her mind, always. Tired of fighting and not wanting him to leave. Uppermost she felt her heart beating, pumping hard through her chest. Years the two had become nothing, yet no longer. She didn't know what he would feel about her, perhaps angry or even hate her. However she didn't care any longer, she wanted to hear his laugh with hers. Her throat felt dry as it had before as her words failed her. She finally managed to say. "Jon."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight- Sansa's Apology

The world decelerated down for Jon, the only sound of the candle light burning in the corner was constant. Being caught off guard. It was his name that triggered him to fall stagnant, nothing. However it wasn't just his name, it was the individual whom said it. Not his uncle, nor his father, or even his brother. The girl he loved, the girl who was alongside him once when he was young, through thick and thin. There in the forest on a shady day together, sitting in the snow sharing a laugh. Sansa's voice whom spoke his name. Although her voice wasn't distant or piercing, but all together gentle. The same he once caught when he was young.

Not being able to recollect his thoughts, unable to remember the previous period he caught her voice say Jon. As if it was a lifetime ago. The voice touched him, warm to receive her voice once more.

Before he twisted around he found her arms wrapped around his chest. A tight embrace draped around him, the similar that vanished for so long. Years since he felt her arms around him. Her Head pressed beside him, unable for clear thoughts to graze his mind. A fuzzy embrace, standing silent. With no voice forthcoming he asked softly. "Sansa?"

Her vision was obscured, trying to clear, trying for the words to leave her mouth. To articulate a single sentence. Why was it so damn hard? Every word seemed to become but a bur to her.

She managed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Jon." Her voice was wounded as tears welled in her eyes. The words seemed to come with a crack in her voice but she pressed on. "There was never a doubt at how much I love you… and I know the last few years tell you otherwise. I can only assure you that I love you. I miss you so much. It was mother's words coming from my mouth and I hate myself for them. I pushed you away. You are my brother, and I love you." She paused her throat dry. "Please forgive me." her voice ran attempting to say everything.

He felt the sadness in her voice and it pained him. Jon stood never speaking a word listening to his sister. His heart was in her throat. It hit him all at once, this was why she stared finding her so often. And always he missed her for so long.

"Of course I forgive you sister. I always wanted to be beside you again." Sansa eyes grew wide as her grasp became tighter around him.

"Truly?" She asked. Turning around he looked into his sister's face roaming over her, seeing her eyes filled with distress. Neither spoke, they gazed into each other's eyes realizing they were not alone anymore. There was no elegance any longer the way she acted always around cold and distant. Now he saw the sadness. Letting the dipped silence fill the room.

"I've loved you the same Sansa. Always." His voice was soft and she sought to persist close. Leaning advancing she enfolded her arms around him firmly. "I've missed you." Was what he said. They stay near together their arms around the other. Her eyes closed letting the warmth sink deep into her heart it felt better in years. All her worries became a mist with him. Nothing may possibly damper her as his head pressed close to hers. She pressed her head into his shoulder feeling her brother around her. Neither recede for a time letting the warmth spread through them.

"Jon?" she whispered.

"What?"

"Don't leave. The watch is to far."

"From what sister?"

"From me." She spoke tender in her voice. Emotions took hold and Jon smiled nothing breaking this.

"Can I show you something?" He whispered. With a nod he stood back their arms slipping back to their sides to the dissatisfaction of Sansa. "Only I and Arya know about these." Jon moved away to his dresser in the back of his room and pulled it over. The dresser screeching into the wood until it stood away from the wall. Behind a bow and two swords laid against the wall from the sight of anyone in the room. Pulling the swords and the bow from the back he brought it forth.

"What is it?" She asked eagerly standing on her tip toes trying to gain sight.

"Remember the bronze sword we found?"

"Yes, how could I forget?"

"I found these." He said as he pulled his weapons out towards her placing a sword on the dresser holding sun piercer in his right hand and Blackfyre in left.

"You found this? She asked udder bewildered, gazing over the stunning weapons unlike anything. They were not plane weapons but elaborate.

"I and Arya found these. Nothing but amour and a cloak wrapped around them, deep in a cave." In awe gazing over the weapons of splendor. "But these are unlike others."

"It looks remarkable." She said in awe. Then Jon held the bow and leaned forward.

"Here this is yours." He declared the bow a few inches from her hand.

"What?" She said much to loudly, failed to recall how late in the night it was. "Jon I can't. The bow is, I've never even touched one." she alleged backing away from him, shaking her head.

"Arya said she wants the sword. You have the bow. Take it. You are my sister, what is an experience if I can't share it with you." He said earnestly, coming closer. The bow held out for her, waiting for her grasp. It traveled through the realm waiting for her grasp.

She gazed at him, the ardor circulating through her. Her heart sweltered without thought she leaned over grabbing his left hand, squeezing it once. With a beam she grabbed the light bow in her right hand. Upon it grasp it felt even against her fingertips. The fine wooden bow in her hand, with her right hand running down the smooth length. It was light. Never was a bow in her hand but it oddly felt to fit her well.

"Had to grab another string. The previous was snapped." Jon said gazing over his sister, watching her.

"Thank you Jon, it's beautiful. It's better than anything." With the bow at her side Jon raised the last sword to her.

"This is Valyrian steel. Arya wants this one. I told her only when she comes of age." He said holding dark sister then placed the weapons back behind his dresser where they stay.

"Would you teach me? I never fired a bow… I've seen you do it."

"Maybe Ser Rodirk would."

"No." She said abruptly. "I don't want anyone, but you." she declared.

"Um, of course, but the moon is high. Tomorrow-"

"I can't fall asleep." She said immanently cutting him off causing Jon to raise an eyebrow. "I mean I don't wish to sleep. I want to let sleep wait, and remain with you." She said honestly standing close. Not wanting anything to separate him from her even a moment. Jon throat was dry he couldn't quite tell why and she blushed.

"Ok." He replied awkwardly.

Then he knew what they may do as if it was on the tip his tongue. He grabbed her hand and pressed towards the door with uncontrolled zeal. "Come on then to an adventure tonight." With a grin he asserted. Sansa only had time to follow. A adventure with the years she forgotten what partaking excitement was. Bringing her, scrambling out departing the room with a pace she certainly not went for years. Jon led them down the hall through the edge of the castle. Sansa letting her brother lead her further on a journey. They descended down the several hallways until they turned and began down a decent to a set of stairs towards the cellars. The dampness in the air hung around her a few cobwebs in the corners. The vaults and cells were at every few strides, a nasty smell wafted from several empty rooms.

"What are we doing here?" She whispered knowing someone may well be awake and discover them in the torch light.

"You'll find." Jon said keeping his feet moving, looking back only when he needed. Finding his sister with a questioned look evinced. Then Sansa distinguished this way, deep below the castle, with endless narrow halls running in a circle to the kitchens. Further down it was colder and Sansa had to adjust her eyes as the darkness filled in around her. Every corner struck her memory sufficing, as they ran deeper. Each torch was there every few strides giving them light until they finally stopped before the large oak door. There were only two doors, the only entrances to the kitchen. With a halt she knew what he was planning.

"We shouldn't, we may find trouble. The cook may still be awake." she declared worry in her tone. Never doing what wasn't expected of her.

Jon looked over her a frown evince on his face. "Where is the adventurous girl I know? Where is the girl who doesn't care about breaking rules and letting mud run down her face?"

While he said this she thought of the armor of a knight shining in the sunlight. Their heavy metal plates as they held a weapon and not being pleasant. Plates of armor resting on her shoulder as she charged into battle. All thoughts she hadn't believed of in years. "Ok." With a smile she declared, causing Jon to grin as his sister was beside him.

"Follow me." He leaned forward but before he could, she snatched his hand. Looking back finding her blushing madly her grasp tighten around his hand. To his confusion Jon again felt sensation unlike anything before towards his sister.

"Stay close to me." she said and he nodded. They crouched down as they moved onward. Jon gently pushing the door exposed with his left hand. They progress, no one inside which was more unsettling. Silent as a whisper they ease forward finding the dark warm kitchen before them. Large tables extended down the kitchen on either side, with massive ovens in one side of the wall. The stones warm beneath them and the smells of bake goods filled her nostrils. Amid the many tables were covered with dishes and spoons of the recent baking. The last time she was exposed to this she was young and pleased. Yet the memories all came rushing back to her, looking forward his hand leading her. The room warmed her face unlike before. Silhouettes were in every corner another that may be the butcher or someone lurking waiting for them. Her eyes thinking someone would be there, but her brother grasp never broke taking her deeper. The thought someone burst in and find them here. However no noise graced the air which both knew would not last long.

Each step was mere and precise. Deep in the kitchens, he snuck with no sound until he reached the ovens. Pulling a large plate off a table he handed it to his sister. Gazing over plate she found the platter filled to the brim with lemon cakes. The beam she wore was prevalent, the brightest she wore since she was just a girl. "Hurry." He whispered and they moved back up the stairs.

In a matter of minutes they found themselves on the balcony together at the top of the tower gazing the stars. Looking up she found the brightest stars filling her mind with a glee. The tower boosted three stories and was the tallest in Winterfell. The upped one carried a balcony where Jon stood with his sister beside him. With a clear view of the small towns surrounding the castle. Like several small pointed miniatures rising up from the ground. Rarely did she find herself at this point and the view was breathtaking. Yet nothing compared to the feeling her brother gave her. She missed this. Settling themselves stuffing the lemon cakes down their mouths. The soft lemon flavor caused her to gleam with each and every bite. The flavor was better with her brother's smile as well the laugh he had than ever and the cake tasted sweeter than previously.

Lemon cakes sat on a table behind them. Further in darkness the many cases with tables stood. Night above was still chilly here in the north but the warmth of the room would help to relax both of them. The stars in the sky more than she could ever hope to count. In no time most cakes have been eaten as Sansa and Jon had an appetite. The smile she wore couldn't represent her true pleasure.

Looking up Jon kept his arms on the railing staring up. "Father told me the names of the many stars." Jon declared as Sansa took another bite of her favorite treat. The trees were bright with moonlight and the sky was filled with a few clouds and speckled with stars. Neither could deny the beauty before them.

"Would you tell me what their names are?" She asked her voice lax and gentle. He smiled standing close.

"Well, that bright star." He lifted his arm and pointed towards one specific luminous star in a sea of many. "That's the blue eye of the ice dragon. If you follow that star it will lead you further north until you reach the wall and beyond to a world of ice." Sansa smiled she searched the sky and found it. Looking over however.

"I don't see it." She lied.

"Here." he lightly stood behind her his heartbeat close to her. Hearing his heartbeat in tandem with her. With a gentle heartbeat he grabbed her arm and gently eased her guiding her arm and lifted it pointing towards the star. The time went slow and she wanted it to last. The touch wasn't like before but felt different, something other. She followed it. With his arm pointed the way until she distinguished the star before her deep in the darkness. So blazing and vast it blinded all else and filled her eyes with a gleam. Infatuated by it.

"I see it Jon. It's beautiful." She spoke sincerely and this caused Jon to smile. He leaned back beside her. Gazing over the countless stars causing her feel so small in the world.

"What about that one?" Sansa pointed to a random star. Jon followed her finger and simply shrugged.

"That's just some lone star." He assumed turning to her as she looked over at him with a shy smile.

"Not every star has a name?" Jon shrugged at this.

"Maybe, but to know all of them you would end up to be as old as the master." Sansa burst into laughter at this and he felt warmth spread in his heart. He wanted to hear her laugh oft. Years since he heard her laugh in his heart. Finding himself staring at her watching her laughing. After a moment her laughter came to a halt, looking at Jon.

"Why not give it a name? Mayhaps it doesn't have one." He pondered this for a moment thinking of a name, few came to mind nothing decent.

"The light iron." he declared.

"No. it needs a better name. Than that."

"How about." She pressed her finger to her chin looking up, several names coming to mind. "The bright dragon. I like the sound of it." She said thinking of the dragon soaring through the sky never having to land on the realm but just fly. Through to any realm it wished.

"There's already a dragon in the sky." Jon stated as moonlight pierced by racing clouds.

"There can be more than one dragon." Sansa replied with a smile.

"Yeah. How many?"

"Three. There are three dragons." She declared and this had the effect to bring a grin to Jon

"Ok the bright dragon. That star is now known as the bright dragon and it leads back home." He said with a grin. The two laughed and she gazed over him. Gazing over him nothing made her feel the way he did and she felt like doing it. Leaning forward without word a she placed a kiss on his cheek. It was out from nowhere, feeling her slender lips against him, he didn't know how to respond blinking several times. It felt warm and spread through him he observed over at her finding her with a sheepish smile her eyes looking off anywhere but his.


	9. Chapter 9

Arya stood a wooden sword in her left hand, leaning her back against the armory. Digging her feet in the snow in annoyance, kicking a rock around. The snow swirled around her as the moon was well above in the sky. It was past time. He was never late, not once. The past few weeks here they spared and Arya frown was bright. Just as she was to depart for him she found her brother in leather. Descending down the steps to her in the courtyard. Although she was with him and to her astonishment found her without a dress. No pleasant tone in her movement, no longer a lady. But above all else in leather greaves and coat with her hair tied back. Watching in astonishment, her jaw dropped never believing this as the two moved towards them. An aura around them unlike anything she had chance to see. They came through the snow to stop before their little sister. Arya meanwhile staying quiet, shaking her head, processing this was real and not some dream. Sporting leather, the sight was foreign. "What's she doing down here…" she shot. Before he answered. "And what are you wearing?" She asked annoyed in her tone with a frown.

"She wishes to train along with us." Jon declared.

"What?" Arya yelled much to loudly before Jon could reply. "She can't train. If she gets a simple cut, she will run back to mother." Arya shot and Sansa stood before but ultimately stayed quiet being in a foreign place.

"Every knight has different movements. It's good for you to train with other partners. When you're fighting it won't be the same enemy forever." Jon declared and Arya frowned at this.

"Fine, if she gets hurt though, don't blame me and don't complain." She replied giving her wooden weapon a turn ready. With this Jon went to the armory and grasped another wood sword, Sansa watching.

"Sansa you've seen movements with a sword before, but I want you to see it firsthand. To gain a better understanding, ok. Just watch." Sansa nodded, as Arya's eyes pierced her sisters. Jon stood his sword out before him with Arya a few paces ahead. Then without warning Arya moved forward her feet quick, the sound of wood rang in the courtyard.

Time went Sansa watching the two in a flurry with the other the clash of wood quick and loud. Eyes fowled with the two spinning and moved dancing through the snow. Arya moved around her much taller brother but still kept pace with him. After a few spars she still didn't feel any more confident than previously, frustrated with herself.

"Alright Sansa ready." He asked without breaking a sweat and she nodded and took his wooden sword. Sansa's grasp on the wooden sword wasn't quite right. It was foreign as any, In her right as Arya held her left. Sansa stood in the mud pressing her feet in as Jon moved her gently. Then without a notice Arya moved not giving her sister a chance, the whacks carrying through the yard. Using her weight Arya pushed with a downward thrust sending Sansa back striking her wooden sword. Swiftly backing away, blocking one swift downwards slash then with her open. Arya spun and stopped her weapon right before her midsection, she smiled bright up at her sister. Sansa looked down seeing her smile as mud ran down her face. This was no needle work as Sansa grimaced.

"Don't move so much Sansa. Keep your ground." Jon sated standing close. Sansa nodded as the two went back and stood before the other. Arya held her weapon standing sideways her weapon pointed, head held high forwards with a smile. This was her place. Sansa held hers with both hands, her feet spread apart. Another spar another win to Arya in two movements. Sansa moving the leather an uncomfortable feeling.

"Use all your weight." Again Arya won in two movements without much try. It felt good to win something against her sister. Her mind was clear her body strong and rejuvenated when she held a weapon. Nothing felt as when she held a weapon in her hand. And Sansa was the opposite, always doing everything like a pretty lady. Here in the dirt she couldn't manage to hit her. Jon told and stood up and stood before her.

"Don't be afraid to move on the attack." He stated watching her bring down her weapon. After a few spars they stopped as Sansa to block several movements from her sister. Then they moved over to a few target being placed up Arya went over pulling her bow and with arrows and went to release them. Sansa seized the bow in her arm running her hand down the smooth wood. The arrow striking the target before her. She had watched her brother do it before and notched the arrow and pulled her upper body back with her arm back. Jon stood beside against placing her arm in position closing her eye.

"Straighten your back. Take aim. And lose." The arrow soaring through the air to the target hitting the edge. Jon smiled and Sansa returned it.

Days later-

Deep in the cave Jon and Arya laid together after another spar just the two of them. Jon had seen a rage ripple through Arya's strikes unlike before.

Over the past few days Sansa had joined them in the courtyard trying her best which Arya could appreciate although the lack of competiveness was getting on her nerves. It seemed that the two were besides each other wherever he went. Always a laugh. Constantly a blush always something to get on her nerves. Arya in a spar hit her sister in the shin and all she was received was a grimaces. Every win Arya received Sansa stood before her never stopping. Even mud ran down her hair still Sansa spared with them. no longer Sansa yelled at her, on various accusations she asked her little sister how was her day. Only for Arya to stop and clear herself from the room. Being far from whatever Sansa had intended to say. Her smile greeted Arya like some weird nightmare.

It seemed the void was beginning between her and her friends as Sansa was beside her brother more oft then anything else. At any moment her sister could she was beside Jon. And even Sansa had a shift finding the leather on her, no longer dress but every night. Even by herself vexing to train. Ready by herself a weapon in hand viewing her auburn hair whirl in the snow. Arya had half the thought to run out with her to state her what she was doing wrong. But ultimately left her to lonesome.

While Arya was upset Jon noticed the temper in his sister. The few days Sansa had become closer and Arya spoke less. After a few hours the two stayed in silence. Laying down Arya head alongside his thigh listening to the sounds of their breaths. Jon looked down at her, this place was still just theirs and found themselves in the same spot near the pond. It was always soothing but Arya being distant was causing days to grow worse.

"What is it Arya? You barely said anything all day." Arya twisted a frown on her face.

"Why have you and Sansa remained together? All of a sudden you forget how she treated you."

"She apologized."

"So." She asked venom in her tone.

"She is our sister Arya. A stark."

"She's not my sister. We are utterly different, she's someone else's." Arya said standing up and creating a distance between them.

"She is a wolf like you, Arya. Family. What does a wolf pack do?" he asked sitting up.

"They stay together." She answered quietly.

"And what do they do when its freezing cold?"

"They keep them warm and safe. Arya. She wishes to try." He said earnestly. She turned and went back to him kneeling down before him.

"But why does she train with us anyways, she is not even decent."

"She wishes to become better, a knight. Arya, she tires and doesn't that matter. Give her a chance. You could teach her." Jon said hopefully. Arya scoffed at this.

"Yeah right." She shot. After a time passed they left the cave and its warmth back to Winterfell back home. The strikes of sun ran through the sky, a familiar smell in the air. Jon headed in his room for the few hours of sleep he was soon to receive. All their family had noticed the lack of sleep the three had received. Catelyn in particular saw the failings of their many duties and asked them regularly.

The next day- It seemed as soon as he fell asleep he was awoken. Only to find his brother. Robb ran into his room in his leather. Sweat ran down his face as if he ran a few miles. "Jon. Jon." Robb repeated his face flushed.

"What would it be so early?" He said rubbing his eyes to the clear room.

"They caught a deserter from the watch and father is to behead him. "

 **Shorter than original intended. After the pm's I received it was clear I should get on with it, and so I decided to get on with it. The next few chapter's will have Jon have much more interaction with the royal family and the knights, and so on. Since eventually he will head south and meet many of these characters. One in particular Joffrey Lannister.**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten- Nymeria, Ghost and Lady

Sansa traveled through the desolate hallway, down with careful and measured steps towards the courtyard. She was predestined to be with the septa, but instead found another place she warranted to find herself. Mud and dirt. With her brothers departed as well with father, leaving her. In her pace her somber was elated in recent days. In the weeks since being with Jon her situation turned around completely. Teaching her with every turn of the sun. The first few sessions progressed slowly as he helped her work her movement. Better understanding her own movements that emanated easier with time. Bit by bit her fear and veil was torn away. Day by day, every strike was brought with strength, and each parry was precise. Her mind growing clear.

Since then the training had gone much more rapidly, her brother's actions a flurry. And Sansa kept pace. Every night Sansa retained the pretense of subservience. It was important that no one suspected anything. The training was retained secret from the likes of anyone, even her closest friends. During the night she slipped from her room to train with sword and bow. Although the bow seemed to come with effortlessness, unlike with sword. Jon could sense her potential with a bow. Having her focus losing arrows, which she was gaining the application, hitting the many targets in the bull's eye. He taught specific elements of the rapid use of the bow. Being able to pull an arrow once loosed and have another arrow notched. Sansa had a much better use with this than with a sword but she kept the wood prominent in the night. Her brother's wisdom of a sword was outmatched and knew to take every spar.

As a result she was getting the full scope. Her days formerly occupied with dance and song no longer. Now filled with training, mud and in it's stead her friends grew further apart. Once she found Jeyne telling her she needed to be more prominent and on time, coming late. Where she never needed to be told twice. As of late, permanently tardy and everyone took notice.

Simply she couldn't care a second, for her in the darkest hours before morning, first light she would jump up out of bed. The brightest smile on her face to meet Jon down near the courtyard. Reaching the cold air he was there. Returning that smile that no one else ever had, a smile that she felt warm her gaze. With him to practice drills and techniques. She consumed this knowledge and felt energized. This was fun unlike anything. She knew her brother was the best teacher as he went with ease asking her what felt best and asking her how each movement felt to her. At times she found her face turning red. Each spar only made her desired to be closer than before.

With these thoughts she came to a standstill, the noises of wood on wood sounded, echoing down the hall. Looking over finding her sister amid the mud and snow. A slight drizzle came down with a few puddles among the mud. Although Arya still stood, the rain and wind swirled around her, tearing at her hair. Her feet slithered through the mud detailed.

Arya wore dark leather that covered her from the rain. Hair tied back running down her back resting near her waist. Feet moved with ease so smoothly, with each flurry a blur as if a single action. Sword in left hand she stood straight bringing her sword around in a swift circle in quick movements. Sansa observed her sister moving with ease, always a shadow, her body hard to follow. She encountered that particularly when faced in spars. Sansa took her leave and approached her sister.

Arya's breath was heavy as another additional hour was devoted in the cold. That wasn't sufficient however. Her brother spent numerous hours amid the snow and if she meant to become a better swordsman she required to double her efforts. Possible triple in her mind, even though she was efficient. Nothing was enough for her. Counting the numbers in her head was endless as her breath. The mud was fresh underneath her feet as she moved. With everyone vanished she acquired the chance to train among the courtyard, without mother knowing, or anyone annoying to break her concentration. However, coming to a halt her sword pointed towards the armory, she overheard footsteps soft and low. But footsteps none the less.

Sansa stopped in the mud as it splashed on her boots a few feet from her little sister. Arya couldn't help but be aware of the person behind her. Anticipating to see her mother, a look of horror, or the septa with a somber. Turning it was neither, the last person she thought. Finding her sister Sansa standing near, alone in leather and fur wrapped her upper body. Arya confused stood straight.

"What?" She asked with no pleasantness in her tone. With the knowledge of the septa she had no intentions of sewing another stupid sun. "Are you here to tell on me? Because I'm not going. I would rather freeze to death than sew something." Arya told, Sansa knowing she wouldn't.

"No. I wondered, if I could spar with you?" The question caught Arya off guard, it was so unlike her.

"Why? Jon isn't here?" Arya questioned, she was genuinely confused. With the exception of Sansa's presence with her brother, rarely previously did she speak with Arya. Now it appeared in fact Sansa meant to become friends.

"I sought to train with you. I can't let a day pass without a weapon in my grasp." That much was true Arya thought. There wasn't a day she didn't find Sansa accompanied with a weapon.

"Why do you care all of the sudden? I believed you were a lady, proper. Are they not pleasant and courteous." Arya's leaned her upper body forward, a fake bow. "Don't they let the prince fight all the battles." Arya mocked with a smirk. Sansa felt her anger slip but doused it just as quickly. Unfazed she stood closer.

"I don't much care for the prince." Sansa told to Arya's utter astonishment. Always with the thought of her fancying to see the prince. As if he was the utmost boy in the realm.

"Well, you need find someone else. You have plenty of admirers, maybe one of them will help you with this." Arya mocked a sharpness in her tone. Sansa huffed seeing she would not find a friendliness here, as she turned and went. Not standing to be mocked.

Arya watched her sister went in a burst. As she grew further apart her brother's voice rang in her ears, so clearly as if he was beside her. It was true, Sansa was polite with her as of recent turns of the sun, and was trying. Arya saw that.

Against her better judgment. "Wait." Arya stated coming closer, closing the distance, once seeking to stay distant. Her voice reached her ears causing Sansa to halt and curved seeing Arya. "I'm sorry." Arya specified followed by silence. "But If we are to train together, you can not complain. And you have to keep up."

"I will." Sansa stated without a doubt in her voice.

"Ok, grab your weapon." Arya told. Sansa smiled brightly left into the small armory where the walls of death awaited. A dream of bows and axes as far until the shadows ascended and covered the wood. Lest only the wood was for her. Wrapping her hand around the familiar hilt she made her way back to her sister and the wind. Back out of the armory she found her sister standing sideways, her legs straight as was her back with her head held high, she looked in her zone. Standing, waiting with a smirk that told her she wasn't ready for this. Sansa seized that as a challenge. The past week her brother had pressed her. Every night she had sword and bow the bruises on her body did nothing to stop her.

"You sure you want this Sansa. Without Jon here I won't go easy." Arya provoked her older sister.

"I must train if I am to be a knight." Sansa noticed her sister smirked as she looked over her. The sun glimpsed against her pupils, never did Arya look more like in her zone. Like nothing could touch her, nothing could faze the wolf. They assemble themselves and before she knew it Arya darted forward.

Her weight pressed down on her left leg as she stabbed her sword forward, towards Sansa's chest. Sansa blocked her sister's flurry, and was quick to counter with one of her own. She didn't score a direct hit but she did force her sister to take a full step back under the fury of the assault. The sound of wood echoed as Arya's foot splashed in a puddle. Before giving Sansa a chance Arya twisted leaving her to slash at her older sister's stomach. Yet unlike before Sansa was ready for this switching from offense to defense smoothly it seemed to be a single action. She parried the blade as it moved with a blur out matched. Then all at once Arya moved her weapon on her sister with savage blows. Every part of her body Arya's weapon tried to strike only to be met by Sansa's weapon.

Arya thrust again with no use. They moved with a pace. Their spins growing larger with each attack. This was Arya's passion and excitement filled her. _The wolf, Must strike._ Her brother's voice rang in her ears. Arya brought her weapon in a furious slash at her shoulder. Only to be answered by Sansa another slash and another parry until Arya's speed was unable to be matched and brought with a blur to Sansa's chest halting just before the leather. They looked at the other, Arya nodding in agreement. Arya backed away. The mud covered half of Sansa's body as several splashes covered Arya's legs. With this both wore heavy smiles and looking into the others eyes saw the smile that neither ever shared with the other.

"You have improved. You must be practicing without me." Arya flashed her sister a smirk moving around her, slipping her weapon in a circle. Sansa nodded with a smile basking in the compliment. Her breathing was hard, her body in sweat and adrenaline unlike her sister. Whom retained her composure the entire spar and seemed to be at half effort.

"Good it will be better when you lose." She had longed to engage another opponent in the dueling ring. She considered her brother the best in all seven realms, and he never let his guard down. Fighting as if he was seven knights at once. Her sister however. Arya spun the sound of sword smacking hers as they continued their dance.

No matter what she tried Arya's blade was there to parry the attack. A seed of doubt crept her mind as she recalled her brother. She remembered Jon's voice in her head bringing her weapon forward. Neither stopped their spar for several minutes until Arya knew what she was going to do next. More importantly she knew with absolute certainty what Sansa would do next too. She couldn't explain how she knew, sometimes she could just anticipate an opponent's next move. Instinct Jon told her. Arya didn't know. Her confidence in that wasn't doubtful. Another slash Arya was more than ready and brought her sword meet. Then as she twisted, with a flurry her sword rested against Sansa's neck discontinuing.

Sansa had to blink as the weapon rested against her skin deprived of knowing how it ended up there. They stood for a moment stagnate meanwhile Sansa stood silent. "How did you do that in that last pass you broke off your attack in the middle of one sequence and came at me in a different angle?"

"I guess it just happened." Sansa didn't know what to say only for her to throw the cloak down in the armory as she was ready for more, not quitting. Sansa turned with her sister, Arya's smile was so immense Sansa had never seen so.

An hour of this continued, mud covering the two, Sansa proved to be a opponent, but Arya came on top with each spar. While both couldn't clearly say how much they enjoyed this. Never once did they share a few minutes together, and here they spent hours. Unknown to the two this was the real first spar but it was far from their last. Where they use wood now, they will use steel.

As Sansa pushed the attack both halted. Both came still to the sound of someone. Without thought Sansa tossed the wood towards the armory as Arya did the same. Turing around they found Jeyne a look of panic read on her face. Jeyne came closer in a rush moving.

"Sansa what in seven are you doing?!" She said it all gushed as a single sibilant word. "The septa is looking for you. Both of you." Jeyne told them. Both knew the clear and present danger of the septa learning about their spars. Arya huffed as she looked over her sister.

An hour advanced and they find themselves back in the small room, no leather only cloth in it's place. The light outside seemed to be miles away and couldn't be touched. The septa closed on Arya. "Come Arya you really need to straighten these stiches today." Sansa watched the others sniggering as they sat down with the others. Sansa gazed the room and knew her options.

"Septa what of Jeyne's doesn't it look very beautiful." As the septa moved to the either side of the room, unnoticed Sansa scooted closer to Arya's side.

"Here." Sansa said. Arya looked down finding the small sewn embroidery.

"Why are you giving me this?" Arya asked raising an eyebrow with the embroidery and a confused look.

"Just take it." she whispered as she handed her own to Arya and took hers. Sansa scooted away then let some time pass to finally say.

"Septa how is Arya's? I think her stitches may be straighter." Sansa told. Septa went with the same doubtful look she carried with the young lady. As everyone couldn't wait to hear the septa criticize. She closed the distance, only to be surprised with Arya.

"Oh why Arya this looks magnificence." the septa complemented, as Sansa gazed the room to find shocked faces among the crowd. Looking back at her sister she found a bright smile. She returned it happily. Arya basked in the feeling always being looked upon with doubt. As they smiled Bran burst through the door looking so eager never seeing him like this. Bran out of breath scanned the room.

"Sansa, Arya. Jon found something he has to show you. He wanted me to tell you first."

"A present for me?" Sansa asked jumping to her feet. Forgetting everyone was there not caring what they heard.

"For both of you." Bran stated. They ran from the room as the septa yelled something neither sure.

"Where is he?"

"He's in his room." They ran towards the room to hear sniffles and squeaks coming forth. In the room both stopped a look of wonder. Finding their brother with a grin and direwolves in the room.

The next day-

Sansa's moved with a rush, lady at her feet she kept up yipping. Called down to the keep where the rest of her family waited. Entering the room she found her father, brothers and sister sitting waiting there. Their direwolves rested at their feet, all rubbing against their owners. Quickly finding Jon and moving to sit down next to him.

"Good now that you are here, I have news." Ned stated.

"What is it?" Robb asked.

"The royal family is visiting." He declared. Sansa knew what that meant, not only the royal family but the prince she is meant to marry. Looking over at her brother she found a frown.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven- Everything Will Be Ok With You Beside Me

The morning dawned cold and heavy as a fog ascended, dark storm clouds were seen far in the distance. A heavy thunder rumbled, rain pelting the sky, splashing against the rock far to the south slowly working its way closer. A bad omen her father once told Arya. An omen she did not heed on the likes of today, of all days.

The day had finally dawned for half of the south to visit the halls of Winterfell. To drink mead and share the food. In the early hours of the morning, when the sun was barely above the horizon and so few were awake, Arya wasted no time searching up and down the castle for an hour, to find nothing. Running down the halls, men cawed back and forth reverberating down the rooms. Aromas from the kitchens drifted to her through the morning air, but failed to spark her appetite. She did not allow anyone or anything deter her search as they called after her. Every room she beheld with anxious nervousness, her stomach churning as Nymeria kept pace at her heels. The young pup Arya loved, once watching as she played in the snow rolling around, a lively sprit like her she thought. Another room and no one, mind scattered as her face felt warm with worry.

As she tuned another corner she halted and found an additional desolate room. No one to her dismay. Her brother vanished from thin air, like a ghost, nowhere was he to be found. Worry shuddered her mind. Half of the south with various knights would arrive in scarce time. And profusely worse she was to depart in a week's time. In a quandary from her brother. Before they arrived it was necessary to see him. Tell him he needed to remain beside her. With her to leave far from home for the first time. Absent, but under no circumstance not without her brother, he needed to depart beside her. Being north, torn from her was not an option she would find. In no situation would she see such a choice.

As she checked the armory for the third time, no one and nothing. Gazing over the weapons she thought of dark sister, It hit her all at once, it came to her, she knew it all along, how could she be so blind.

"Come Nymeria." She told running through the courtyard. Passing under men holding a table; they cursed her moving along. Everyone in a commotion for the countless visitors soon to arrive, running back and forth in a fit of madness. Moving through the chaos, she jumped back and forth with easy steps as she was swift, avoiding anyone's sight, careful steps to avoid making a sound. She received no problems reaching the wall as she snuck in shadow from the walls of Winterfell. Nymeria at her heels pouncing, trying to keep up and needle on her belt. As she ran further into the forest, the castle became minor, closer together but remained chaotic. Men running back and forth on the walls. Their voices were quickly drowned by the wind. Venturing further the air was crisp and clean she knew by the dryness of it, it will be a bitter day. The precise day for the warmth and tranquil cave.

Gazing the forest she smiled, this woodland suited her and she prized every root. However, even with the sight, it did little to lighten her mood. Further the trees gave way to larger open areas as she recognized every bush. Unknown to Jon she traveled the route a few times by her lonesome. Pleasant to be in the cave, absent from the others. There she headed to meet her brother. The path wasn't always clearly marked and there were many false trails. Before she had to turn to him and he directed her by pointing or with a nod of his head. Now she knew with utmost certainty every tree and rock. The wind was calm and she saw no difficulties moving through the mess of tress, bushes and dirt. Until finally in the distance the similar looming cave she visited so often. A welcome sight.

A few minutes of moving down the trail making sure to move gradually she came to a halt down the trail to the large open cave, she found him. With this she let out a sigh. Resting on a rock he sat, back turned in his leather, the sound of stone on steel echoed. Running down a whetstone on the steel, with ghost at his feet. His hand moved slowly and methodically, running a whetstone down the valyrine steel. The weapon was close at hand, as if he could not part it. She recognized the blade with the torch light glistening of it, the same as the other. The sword she begged to acquire but Jon wouldn't permit. She wondered how long since he had left the cave, looking as if he had been here for hours by the looks of the torches.

The sound of the guttering torches filled her ears taking a step closer. It wasn't Jon who noticed her first, but ghost. Turning around, his ears perked to discover her, more prominently Nymeria. The small, silent runt of the litter turned to find Nymeria near. The wolves stared at the other as ghost stood on his hind legs moving closer. Jon noticed his wolf suddenly stood up on his legs.

"Ghost, what is it?" He asked turning around. To his delight he found his sister by her lonesome but instead of leather, in a billowy dress that ran to her feet. He could tell she reviled the dress, with needle at her belt. Worse he saw a look of worry upon her face. Knowing here of all places was where she shouldn't find herself.

"Arya. What are doing down here? You shouldn't be here before the royal family arrives." he stated.

"I would tell you the same." She countered with a quizzical frown.

"The Lannisters and Baratheons will be here in short time. You should not burden yourself with me and gain the septa's fury." He told turning back to his sword. She stood closer a bit of anger in her face.

"Don't say such things Jon. You never burden me. You're my best friend." She said honestly. The very sound of it caused his heart to tighten. Looking back up he turned to face her, she was everlastingly near. Through thick and thin no one like her. He knew and he smiled.

"I will leave the cave soon and be there. I just need some time before they arrive." He declared with a smile. Unbidden Arya's finger began to twine itself in a lock of hair. She pulled it down as soon as she realized what she was doing. She recognized he was upset. He seemed reticent and only she could tell. When no one else ever cared. He never appeared so restrained as of now. Slowly she closed the distance between them, her eyes studied his.

"Jon what is it? You're troubled." His calm face showing no emotion.

"Nothing sister, I've never been better." He said hiding the truth behind a smile. Masked with a calm veneer. No matter at times he never told, if he provided the slightest impression he was on his worse day she would not know, he never spoke of it. Without knowing she had begun chewing her lower lip.

She heisted thinking of what to say, never had she received his answer to this. With nothing else, she needed to explain her dilemma. She drew in a long breath gathering herself to speak. "Jon." She said quietly causing him to turn looking to find her face anxious.

"Arya what is it?" He asked seeing the anxiety in her face.

"I," she said trying for her thoughts to pour from her mouth. She couldn't say it, the words were stuck in her throat. The day had come, soon he would be to far from her grasp.

"What, did something bad happen?" She didn't reply. "You can tell anything to your best friend?" He asked standing closer with a look of care. Her heart swelled.

"I am leaving soon." Her voice carried over the air, the cave grew silent. He knew, he knew for a while but didn't want to face it. "In a week. Far from here. Far from you. I don't want that to happen. I, I can't let that happen. Father told me we are departing south, leagues from here, leagues from the wall to kings landing. And instead of the watch where you are presented with no choice, where you can't live, you should depart with us…" she spoke her heart churning. "Once you told me you would always have my back. So come with me and let me be beside you, where it is right. Where I will have yours, and your smile further south. You are my only friend and I can't be without your smile." She declared uneasy hope in her tone. His head raised to her, these thoughts plagued him constant, they were parting Winterfell to the south. Thoughts were swimming through muddy water, it was easy to lose sight of them. Jon didn't reply right away as he mulled over his thoughts. His sister leaving him. The watch grazed his mind as well Arya and Sansa all rolled up into a constant battle between his choice.

Finally he said. "I've made my mind." Without any doubts, standing near. She was expecting this, though another part of her hoped he changed his mind over time. She felt sick to her stomach. There wasn't a world she wished without Jon in it. Weeks his decision finally arose to him. While the watch was present, a smile from two meant far more to him. Always paramount in his mind. Superior to any blade or of a promise of honor. Alone thoughts that remained extensive, hard on his decision. But when he came down to it. When he truly thought of what felt right, his sisters remained in his mind. Arya knew his choice and was ready to change his mind by any means.

"But. How can you-" She asked anger slipping from her tone. Before she could finish.

"I'm heading with you." He interrupted without hesitation. Again the cave fell silent, for a moment she blinked the words hitting her to register. She looked at him for an elongated instant, nothing to say. The sound of Nymeria growling as she nipped at ghost's ear was only to be heard. Anger and fear slipped her mind in a perfect mist. Words failed her, as joy overwhelmed like nothing before, every finger and part of her felt the joy course down her spine. Heart swelled in her chest as her lips turned into a smile, her face a beam. Jon besides her heading south, the thought was better than any. At that moment she knew she would never be alone again.

Without another thought she rushed forward wrapping her arms around him tightly into his embrace. Tears of joy welled in her eyes, tears so happily to fall. This fear had plagued her for so long she was sure she would not escape it depths. However it was a fear she did not deem to see come true and in her darkest moment it blossomed and turned bright. A life deprived of her best friend, her only friend wasn't a thought she was fond of. She absently brushed away a tear coiling down her cheek.

Jon wrapped his arms around her, looking down at his sister. "I can't let a wolf be surround by little lion pups. You'll tear them apart." He assured her. Arya laughed at this viewing her brother. Seeing his silly smile it warmed her, softening the edge of her fear. She allowed herself a dose of glee.

"Without you, they would certainly be torn to pieces… I'm so glad." She voiced genially relived looking up at him. Nothing could damper his sprit now.

"So am I." He replied kindly causing her to feel warmth fill her heart. They stand together letting the moment sink deep in their hearts. Arya pushed her head back against her brother's embrace smiling, not wanting to let go. Never once had she wanted a moment to remain as much as now.

"We will be knights together." She finally assured as a time passed. "A pack of roaming wolves that do not abide to rules. We will rise to be famous in every realm, like the dragon knight. Every book will speak of our battles and our bravery's. Arya and Jon, the knights who fight for the north. For our brother the warden of the north. Our home, are lone home. Neither of us will ever be apart." as she said this he grinned. Only, he knew this was a fantasy. Far south he would be nothing more than a bastard, and when she came to age she would marry some lord and leave him the same. He didn't how right he was and sooner to his like.

Nothing would faze him now he wouldn't feel sad. Knowing a way to brighten his spirits for the both of them. "Before the pups arrive, how about one last spar?" He did not need her to even answer as her eyes grew wide. Then she frowned again looking down at her itchy clothing.

"I would, but Mother made me wear this. Says I have to look the part of being a lady." She uttered distant and rolling her eyes causing Jon to beam. She wore a billowy dress that ran to her feet. Jon couldn't help but smile as he knew she wanted to rip the clothing to pieces form her.

"You look like a highborn lady, true." He said knowing he would irate her. She gave him a face.

"How about if we spar, you let me use the valiryne steel. I am better than any my age." She declared convinced with a bright grin Jon knew so well.

"I've told you, you're only thirteen. Is needle not efficient?" He asked. Her head dropped, she regretted what she said.

"No; needle is finest sword in all the realm. Only," She thought for a moment.

"Only what?" He asked. A wicked dangerous grin spread across her lips. The grin she wore told Jon she was enthusiastic.

"I can use two swords at once, double my chances to defeat my opponent. No knight will face me when I'm grasping two deadly weapons before them. Every time they block, they will have another weapon from another position to attack." She spoke with a superior smile, convinced of this. Jon smiled, his sister's imagination and determination never sees to amaze him. Any situation she found herself she would know how to achieve a result she wanted.

"Two swords for one lady… Who has ever held two swords, in the history of the realm?" He asked with a grin.

"I am the first. Like I said, the world will speak our names in song and tail in every realm." Nymeria yipped at this. Jon shook his head with a grin as he grabbed the wooden weapons. Tossing one to his sister whom caught it in her hands, perfectly. Flipping the weapon up she stood ready, her body sideways as to avoid being hit. Jon charged forward and the clang and clash of their weapons rang in the cave in a sharp staccato rhythm. Over the past month their training sessions had become less frequent but far more intense. Arya had yet to land a blow but each time she felt as if she was closer and closer to victory. Jon's form and technique were flawless but Arya was aware that the slightest miscue was an opening she needed.

After a while, both fighters were breathing hard, the session had gone far longer than any before it. Jon smiled brightly causing Arya to return it.

"In the south, no one will match your skill. You will best every knight young, and old." He professed and she smiled at him.

"Don't jest." she spoke hesitant looking down, blushing as she kicked a rock.

"I'm not." He said truthfully. Jon dropped the wood down near the cloak as Arya followed. They sat down and settled together, Arya resting her head against his shoulder. Still there was nowhere like the sound of his heart. Watching as Nymeria nipped at ghost's ears. Arya smiling at this as her wolf liked to play with her silent brother's pet. Nymeria nipped ghost either ear trying to get him to play, ghost remained motionless staring at her.

"What is it like, further south?" She asked wonder in her voice, only hearing stories of the lush forest and large cities. The city was famous throughout the realms. A world with brightness and green.

"I don't know. Never been." He said looking over at her, causing her to frown.

"You don't get out much, do you?" She asked with a smile and he returned it.

"No. No, I don't." He said with a beam, he mussed her hair again. The thoughts of King's landing improved. Not only would her brother travel with her but also Sansa would accompany them.

"Sansa will be with us. I never told you, the two of us spared together." She saw this had an effect as Jon smiled.

"How did she do?" He asked keenly.

"Well, a touch improved from before. But she still couldn't handle my speed." She said with a smirk.

"I'm glad you gave her a chance." He spoke cheerfully, hopeful that the wounds of their hatred would heal.

"Like you said, I need to see others movements if I am to best my opponent." Jon thought of other opponents, opponents he never fought nor saw the likes of.

"I hear Ser Barristan and Ser Beric are coming. Knights that fought beside the Targaryen's. Mayhaps one of them will spar with you. And I even hear the prince's spar as well." He said with a tone of anger. Arya shared her brother appearance and groaned at this.

"Mother said I have to act all lady like, around the many princes and princess. I don't know why? It's not like they haven't heard someone curse. It's no different coming from a lady." She said with dislike.

"That will be tough. You can't let a day pass without saying something you shouldn't. You'll let it slip." Jon told and she nodded.

"Probably call them little brats and they would deserve it." She told and Jon graced her with a smile.

"I hear the prince is a pompous prick anyways." Instantly Arya burst into laughter at this.

"I hear the queen is a cunt." Arya declared looking up at him. Jon's eyes went wide, shocked at this and stared at his sister as her words hit him. Waiting for him to say a word, he smiled. Then simultaneously they broth broke into laughter, booming throughout the cave louder than before. Jon felt his mind ease everything would be alright. Nothing would damper him.

Unknown to him soon chaos would ensue and a path of decay anger destruction. All out madness would be laid before him. Torn from the very decision he had chosen. Swords would ring as horses ran down the other and anyone who would face him would meet a vairlryne steel blade.

Back in Winterfell-

Uncle Benjen stood near the courtyard, he had looked and checked again for them for his brother. Every rock it seemed turned with nothing but air. As he was about to give up he watched from a far as Jon and Arya burst through a door. From the forest they said something Arya smiling so bright he never saw, ran and off separated. The entire day they searched for his niece coming with nothing and now he knew why. Departing he headed for Jon, Jon came to a halt his uncle came ahead.

"Do you reason I miss where you were." He said with a all-knowing grin.

"Um. I was only." He tried to explain but Benjen answered with raising his hand to stop him mid-sentence.

"No need Jon, I will voice you were helping out an about." They shared a smile. "Come." he told and they went down the hall men running before them.

"Are you here for the feast?" Jon asked. Benjen raised his head looking up at the home he once knew.

"I've spent so many years here. My home, or what is no longer. I know every room but more importantly my family, my brother. Feast? No. Think I would miss my brother to be hand of the king."

"Uncle I need to tell you, I have made up my mind. About becoming a man of the watch." Jon told causing Benjen to halt, his ears open.

"And?" He asked intrigued.

"I will not head north, I will leave with father south, to king's landing." He answered to Benjen's utter astonishment.

"Tell me. Why the change of heart? Why now?" Benjen asked as his nephew never once thought of anything but the watch.

"I realize I have a family. I can't give up on them. A family I love and want to keep safe."

"At the expense of what you want?"

"Anything and nothing. I distinguish what I want. Even if I grow up to be nothing I want to keep them safe." Benjen took a moment to process this then smiled resting his hand on his nephews shoulder.

"Know the watch is always there, waiting if you change your mind." Jon would know that soon enough, he would know it firsthand.

As they day progressed Jon gathered his best cloak and leather for the royal family. He stopped thinking about Sansa, he hadn't seen her once today and the prince would soon arrive. Quickly shook this from his mind.

Jon stood with his family as the first large carriage came into the courtyard the wheels squealing and turning before them.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve- Allies and Enemy's

The sun was troubled with clouds, not the slightest glimpse of the light ran through the city. That did little to discourage the countless villagers whom stood in the dim gloom, among the muddy courtyard. Among the sea Jon stood far behind a row of his family. Looking around there was plenty beyond Jon ever perceived. Not the wall nor the ground carried a weight grander than the crowd present today. Every villager derived from home, to catch the royal family, a mere glimpse if they may. As far as from Moat Cailin stood in the courtyard, prepared for various from the south. The city couldn't contain the mere amount of the people who wanted in, bursting at the seams, simply to voluminous.

Folk coming from every direction seeking to see the knights. They overflowed into the small towns surrounding Winterfell. Shacks spurn up on the bare ground outside the city walls and further onto the hills. Individual's descending from further cities ascended and lined up the streets laid out haphazard fashion at makeshift stands selling whatever. There barbers, fortune tellers, people with leeches and wanted to draw your blood. Never on any occasion did Jon observe so many in a tight area.

Despite the circumstances of their presence, the people were in a festive mood. The fantasy of the king was unknown to that of any of the north. North of the neck folk could scarce distinguish who even was the king, and each knight that presided them, they bowed to many delights. Jon stood behind his sister waiting, all stagnate. There was little to do but wait in the dull murk. While standing still for another few minutes Sansa turned back, seeing her brother, smiling brightly. Jon returned the smile with warmth. She wore a bright gown that shone in the darkness unlike anything. He had half the heart to move towards her and speak, only he recognized this would be folly and only upset his family, holding his tongue. However, seeing her eyes he was more encouraged to speak and he could see confidence and felt all worry disappear in his heart.

Never had he seen her more radiant than today, her hair cascaded to her shoulders and partway down her back resting upon her shoulders, as she wore a bright gown, nothing had compared to her beauty. To him she swallowed the whole courtyard at times, even he forgot why he stood there, requiring to retell himself. She had this effect on him, her bright auburn hair shined, and he thought she was stunning.

The courtyard was hazy with noise, murmurs from the villagers around him. At long last the first of orders echoing, reaching him, the shouts of men extended as a outsized party of knights mounted pored through the gates. Their amour rattled as the horses splashed against the mud. Men riding the most splendid horses Jon had grasped. They thundered forming a rank before them, four abreast. In red and gold heavy plate they poured and pulled on the reins, their horses snorting and stomping the mud.

A gust of wind lifted the red silk pennon atop a tall staff and the lion and stag ran through the wind. The banner bearer was a knight in white scale armor chased with gold, a pure white from head to toe as well. A man in the same amour sat saddled beside him. Their amour glinting in the noonday sun, specks of light in an ocean of people. In bright white amour all else seemed shrouded as no one witnessed this before, their cloak gleamed with snowy white lingering close behind. Jon recognized the white knowing they were Kingsguard as Ser Arthur Dyane. The blonde haired good looking gentlemen was Jamie Lannister, the man whom killed the Targaryen king. Some whispered as they appreciated him for all of his splendor. He heard many saying something about him.

Unlike the villagers, he was not a man he was concerned, but the man beside him. The man whom Jon read about, with a long beard and short hair was Ser Barristan. A man Jon distinguished utmost tales about. A man whom fought for the Targaryen's beside his prince during the battle of the trident. A man who fought with various skills and killed various thriving know knights throughout the realm.

The men in red and gold armor on stallions as a carriage rumbled made with red trim. Behind them Jon's stomach churned as the royal prince, Joffery sat saddled of his horse in red and black silk with gold trim came forth. As his horse galloped forward his head carried high with a bright smug satisfactory smile, not meeting anyone's gaze.

Naught it seemed ended him more cheerful than the gazes various provided him. With a smirk he trotted forward as if he recognized everything. Jon found himself gritting his teeth. Approaching he pulled the reins on his horse, his eyes found Sansa and smiled radiantly. Taking a bow before her with a smile, only for her. His smugness lingered in the air as hushed whispers filled the yard. For once in Jon's life he felt tang of jealousy on his tongue and it was an unwelcome feeling.

While his eyes were focused on the pompous prince he didn't notice the two whom came up near him. Alongside a man trotted up in heavy black armor, with half his face burned with a stump for a ear. And on the either side, a man upon the largest stallion Jon had ever witnessed. The man was a giant, towering over the men around him, eight foot tall, larger than any, with the heaviest plate and a helm concealing his face. The man had an uneasy feeling about him.

After them a group of three all mounted sat close. The middle one had a crooked nose with long jet black lank hair, his eyebrows were bushy with one eye squinting, half asleep as he looked he was about to fall to the ground, his eyes half open. Known as the squire. Jon couldn't help but smile at this. Beside him to his right a short man with receding black hair and peppered with red, his strong jaw clean. Known as Ser Tim. Without noticing he pulled a wineskin from his pocket and took a swig. The bright wine spilling on to his face and on to the floor. He dressed plainly in black doublet brown mantle and scuffed boots.

And finally a man with brown hair, smooth skin with a much more pleasant fragrance about him, with red linen and yellow doublet. With black boots cleaner than any man and he couldn't stop smiling brightly. Yellow teeth to match his yellow doublet, as if everyone gazes were only for him. Simply known as the iron.

Finally a group of hedge knights arose together all huddled together, as if they were one. They waited far behind the knights knowing they were not meant for crowd. Yet Jon looked through them. His eyes searched through the various men, wearing altered color clothes all carrying weapons foreign Jon had not the chance to witness. Diverse sigils as they came as far as Highgarden.

Eyes searched through them, until he found a man among the others, long white, golden hair rested at his shoulders tall and thin with a smooth jaw, it wasn't the man Jon found strange but the man's eyes. His eyes were not found on the prince as was everyone's. Where anyone was faced another way, his gaze was found on Jon. The hedge knight studied the bastard through narrowed eyes. For a moment his heart seize to operate, as the air seemed thin, the courtyard was dust. Eyes observed at the bastard and no one else, all else in the courtyard was nothing. The man smirked as his eyes were undoubtedly only on Jon.

Jon broke this thought as the king irritably stood before him. The courtyard was inaudible. Not a peep graced his ears. Without noting everyone in the vicinity of him was kneeling. All were at their feet, but him. Looking back and forth villagers were near the ground, appearing as if they were kissing the ground. Lone the bastard stood. The king mounted, before the bastard without kneeling. Jon eyes encountered the king and he grunted. The king observed him lifting an eyebrow with a sour look. Robert grunted again with a anger, Jon without thinking dropped to his knee. The Royal king came before them staring at the bastard for a moment concerning him for a second.

Later in the day-

Virtually the moment the king arrived, before Jon acquired the possibility to encounter any number of knights. Immanently he declared they would depart for a hunt. And so they left towards the wolfs wood. Jon knew better to hold the valyrine before the knights, and he departed and left the valyrine in his room and grabbed a random blade for his belt. Jon traveled into the clouded day. The bright stallion waited him, his horse his uncle provided him at a young age.

On the road, the outsized group disappeared from the castle all upon their horses down a thin muddy rode three men abreast. The company was not a few but a size Jon thought grandiose, enough to take on another company of soldiers. The rain held off for the time being, but the sky remained thinly overcast. The air damp and cold from the rains edging near.

The daytime grew frostier by the minute as the storm clouds drew near. Down the road it was scarcely used yet, now alive with bowmen and knights, horses sneezed and wheeled about. The air was tranquil but occupied with laughs and tales of men before and behind him, yelled at the other. Several raised their voices in roars.

When the men left more than a few dozen followed to Robert's dislike as many tried selling whatsoever. Only Robert saw to that, shouting to them, saying the blasted animal would hear. Even without their yells of business, the various knights did little to soften their voice.

Robb and his brothers rode along with the royal prince at the head of the column with wine flowing and the kin beside them. While they drank, where he was destined to ride. As far behind with the other hedge knights, back in the column. A bastard was not destined to be neighboring to royal blood, even bastard blood from a lord. At times Jon felt the knights observing him with piercing eyes. Jon shrugged their eyes off of him.

Further they treaded deeper, on either side trees surrounded them with there lush and went on and on as far as any saw. Before him a few hedge knights spoke to one another until someone broke his thought.

"Move along, bastard." Snorted Squire Andrew Banefort as Ser Geoff Lefford let out a harsh laugh exposing his brown and yellow teeth. Jon looked over to find the same men behind the prince with the crooked nose and black surcoat, mail known as Squire Banefort and Ser Lefford let out a harsh laugh at this. Jon scoffed and before he could say anything they rode on to far for Jon's words. Jon felt his skin boil but dosed knowing better now than to insult, his father voice ran through him. _Not here, not our guests._ As he thought of this a voice clouded his mind.

"Do not let their folly ire you." A ruff voice spoke. Jon turned to find one of the most well known knights in the realm. Ser Barristan upon his horse a few paces from him. A slight smile upon his face as he rode up alongside him. As he pulled the reins on his horse a gust of wind blew past through Jon's hair. Their was an unusual feeling in the air. The knight looked as much of a knight as he could reason. The white amour seem to glisten in the sun, the clouds broke apart sun shining in beauty.

"I won't. They are lone words in wind." Jon told the knight, knowing better.

"Aye. I can't argue you that. Those men will fetch you nothing but anger and ill will. The squire is quite displeased, he never was made a knight, and disgusts anyone he meets for it. And Ser Lefford iron is a mad fool. Why together they have the makings of cravens." Ser Barristan said with a grimace. He had no likings of the Lannister men, that was clear. Their aims were made plain before him. Specifically the young prince's men as they relished to toil and claw at whomever they wish. With no consequences as the Lannisters turned the cheek.

Recalling memories of motion and pain flickered his mind, Ser Barristan footsteps down a dark hall, as screams echoed filled his ears with terror. As if a animal was being killed, the screeching wouldn't stop. Opening a door what he beheld shook his mind, as three were beating a young man. The sights, sounds, and smells of fear retched the air. Recalled his face, his poor face the young squire of Ser Lefford covered with blood dripping from him nose. A cut running down his cheek to his mouth in a sicking way, as dark blood ran down his body, dribbled down his stomach. And before him, three men stood with grins, Ser Geoff Lefford with a bloody knife. Ser Barristan felt anger rush him as he remembered the approach of his feet, the sound of his steel sending the distant ring around the small room, the stone amplifying the sound. With his sword point an inch from Ser Geoff lefford nose he let the anger of rage through him. His voice drowned even his mind, as he yelled to them, he would cut any if they did not run. Never once did he see men so craven and quick to shit themselves.

The Kingsguard cleared his mind, that was a year ago and clouded with others. "Where are my manners, excuse me at my age sometimes I forget. Pray I do not do it often." Ser Barristan extended his arm and Jon took it pressing hard into a firm grip. A grip of a knight whom fought for years. "Well met, I am Ser Barristan lord commander of the Kingsguard."

He did not deem to introduce himself. "I know Ser. You need no introduction… I am Jon snow." Jon knew this man and felt as minor as ever beside him.

Ser Barristan tilted his head looking at Jon giving him a curious glance. His white eyebrows stood out starkly against his face, he arched one of them at Jon. After a moment of silence the old knight asked. "You are Ned Stark's bastard?" He saw the resemblance.

"I am." He said reluctantly. Ser Barristan smiled not a mock but a knowing smile.

"I have received word you are quite the man with a sword. Ser Rodrick expressed you are his finest student. And I overhear from some of the guardsmen you have best men twice your age. Your use of a sword is unpresented." Ser said with a smile. Jon felt his face beam, a praise coming from this man was unmatched by any he could ponder. Jon smiled at this not only did the knight compliment him but he was the lord of the kingsguard, the most decorated knight in the realm.

"How often do you train with a sword? If you don't mind me asking."

"Several hours every pass of the moon, I train with sword and bow." He said proudly. Ser nodded at this he saw himself at the young age training every day. Jon's stallion snorted.

"You train more oft than Meryn Trant and Boros blount." He alleged this with a chuckle thinking of his fellow kingsguard, where formerly Ser Arthur stood his honor. Nights he stirred in the morning, his head in his hands thinking he ought have perished that day, when the sun was glinting on his face. Instead of some old ragged ass man.

When the war hammer stuck his prince. He felt Robert had stuck his heart. Severed it to two. Watching the blood run in the water, further as the prince took his last breath. Rahegar was unlike any and he knew he would have remained a king to die for. Now he is enclosed by broken men and men whom do not care for honor.

If he had the chance to do it over, to die for another king similar to him he would thankfully. However this was unlikely. And now Nights plagued him, filled his eyes with unknown and there was nothing but his thoughts. All of this crumpled him to a gloom, he felt ready to die.

As Ser looked back at the bastard their was a quality about him, something he couldn't quite put, and he seemed to be a man whom was familiar. "Why so often, pray tell?" He asked. Jon was all to pleased to answer. With bright eyes in the sun.

"One day I wish to dawn helm and horse. Ride in the sun as a knight. To be present in city's with knights to roam the lands and fight for honor. They say such men as the sword of the morning never left their sword, it was part of him and won tourneys with a single swing." Jon professed as nothing seemed better. Ser Barristan nodded at this, being similar at his young age. Ser Arthur was a close friend he would soon never forget, now a corpse as were all his friends beneath the ground.

"A fight in a tourney or a battle are two very diverse fights." He professed with his elderly knowledge, thoughts of the trident and Harrenhal graced his mind. Thoughts he deemed would disappear. "I cannot say at your age I did not want the same. On one side a tourney, men see it as a chance to show off. Their skill." He said as he gazed the sky. "On the other hand, before a battle a man is apprehensive until morning, and when you face your enemy. It is simply a chance to shit your pants." The old knight stated and promptly both Jon and Ser Barristan laughed at this. Ser Barristan slapped Jon's back with a lush enjoying the young bastard's company.

"I will fight in both, and I will soon not forget an extra pair of pants." Jon declared without hesitation, and the old knight nodded at the young man's confidence.

"Then it is necessary you carry more than a spare pair of pants, I must courage." Jon nodded with grin. The men before them laughed at something they couldn't hear as wind blew past.

"I will have to see how you do in a spar. Maybe you can teach this old man something new."

Jon shook his head. "I doubt that Ser, you are the finest knight in the realm." Ser Barristan smiled as he had not received a compliment in more than a decade. Utmost of recent, men spoke behind him in the shadow. Not of his expertise, but of his age. How he was lacking and should soon retire to a home. It was pleasant to hear change and a praise from someone as this young man. A compliment meant more from him.

"Your thanks do me a great pleasure. On the marrow I will see how much your Ser Rodrick recognizes and we shall spar." He declared to Jon's astonishment. A spar with a knight of the kingsguard would be other worldly.

"Nothing would mark me happier ser." Jon noted. The knight nodded in pleasant agreement. Seeing truly the young man appreciated him as a knight and not an old fool as he was perceived far south. Once more he found himself looking at the boy, he had a feature about him, something he hadn't seen as of late, an air maybe he thought. As the bastard turned looking forward Ser Barristan saw something he hadn't in more than decade. As one prince he knew, but knew it was only some mirage in his old mind. And he shook it from his frail mind.

"Mayhaps, one day you will wear the white." He declared with a smile. Jon had his doubts.

"I do not ponder a bastard had ever the grace to wear the white. They say bastards are cowardly and are born as such." He told and knew being informed so regularly. Ser shook his head in disagreement.

"Nothing we are born with marks us. We may be whomever we wish. Although mayhaps the white is not for you. Might be the first perhaps, or, perchance you have a reach for something else, something greater." Jon smiled at this, a thought that never crossed his mind until now. Considering this, with control over a army and a holdfast was a entertaining thought, but not for him.

"If you mean squire than perhaps." Jon replied.

"I see you are no craven, you are meant to be a knight." Ser Barristan told. Jon took this to heart. They rode further every once a while a knight passed, someone yelled or they stopped yet being this far in the rear Jon could not see his brother's, or father.

"Is the king eager to hunt so oft as the second his feet touch the north he leaves for the hunt?"

Ser smiled and pondered for a moment before answering. "I would reckon every day. The animals are fond of him further south. They hear him from a mile away impending and scurry away in the trees. But wolves, I don't know what he tends to do when he meets a wolf." he answered, causing Jon to smile. As they rode together more shouts filled the sky. While Ser Beric reined up beside them. The young knight wore his brown surcoat and boots, without making his presence known.

"When will we escape this dreadful forest?" The young knight asked annoyed. Having no likes for this forest. Both the old knight and Jon looked over to find the Ser Beric next to them from nowhere, from air.

"Ser Beric it is pleasant to grace yourself to our presence." The old knight mocked as Ser Beric huffed not in the mood today. He rode lacking further behind as they checked the forests beyond. He sighed irritably.

"You know I do not heed the looks of the many, I do not need admiration." He told as the crowds were not for him.

"The wolfs wood is not to your liking?" Jon asked the knight.

"I would rather be in my own country, this forest carries a weight, a eerie feeling. It gives me a sense I cannot recognize the likes of." The knight professed, Jon thought the opposite.

"I know this forest, I visit frequently. Any tales that wolves and raiders kill every day is nothing more than tales." Jon told the knights. Ser Barristan smiled at this.

"You see Ser Beric. The boy is braver than you. Maybe you have forgotten your honor back home." Ser Barristan laughed at this Ser Beric gazed them for moment nothing said.

"Excuse me. This is Jon, Ser Beric. Beric, Jon." The old knight nodded as Ser Beric took Jon's arm and pressed tightly. As this was said the eight foot tall man pulled on the reins beside. The mountain came past grumbled.

"Move Dondarrion, you are needed." Gregor declared as Jon looked over the eight foot tall man, Gregor giving him a sharp glare. His eyes were large and shuddered the feeling in the air.

"Alright." Beric told and the pair left. Jon watched as the large knight gave him a cold a glance and moved away.

"I know many knights, but I do not him." Jon told. Ser Barristan considered Jon then back towards the large man.

"A knight he may be, but a knight I would rather not recognize. That is Ser Gregor Clegane, the mountain they call him. He was knighted by prince Rahegar Targaryen." Ser Barristan indicated. The name had the effect to peak Jon's interest, any Targaryen had this effect.

"You knew prince Rahegar?" Jon asked knowing.

"Aye. I knew prince Rahegar Targaryen. A young bright dragon." _A man whom flew high above the clouds with his lute and voice._ He thought.

After another hour of trotting Robert snorted telling more than half of the company to leave him. Only him and his family remained for the hunt as they contine down into the forest. Jon leaving, down the road back to Winterfell.

Regular to days Jon found himself near the armory, as he worked his weapon towards the air. His feet slid through the mud with each move the air moved with him. Unknown to him Ser Barristan stood not a foot from him. "It seems the king had no use for me and I have time." Ser Barristan said as Jon turned around to find the Kingsguard before him with a smirk.

Several hours later-

A light rain came down, the dusky clouds over the sky as Ser Gregor approached Winterfell. His head was aching once more and he required to reach Winterfell for the milk of the poppy. Drawing near, the sounds of shouts filled his ears. Approaching the courtyard he found a substantial crowd of men and women, shouting. An uproar as they pumped their fists madly. He slipped from his stallion coming closer.

Only a few paces were needed as he began to push the numerous away. Deep In the crowd he found a man stood with a table before him, taking bets. Men throwing down silver shouting deafeningly, the bastard, or the Iron. Turing to the commotion; he headed to find a large exposed ring where the bastard stood in the mud, the rain splashing against his face, his hair drenched. Their was a smell in the air, not dirt but rage. The bastard's face was bright with mud and a power he saw, with a blunt sword in either hand.

Observing he found within the mud, the squire Banefort was laying there, while Ser Tim was kneeling in the mud, his fingers digging into the sludge. Clearly struggling in pain, Ser Tim blood dripping from his nose while the squire laid with his back against the mud, his eyes to the sky, like a lifeless and lazy fool. Ser Gregor shook his head at this, looking back up, Iron or know better as Ser Geoff Lefford remained standing before the bastard, his bright yellow teeth clear. Smiling with confidence, while his eyes endured with an fury.

An extended blunt sword was held, pointed towards Jon. Gregor identified the three were brutal in their tactics, as they would do next to anything to win, but only Iron was a satisfactory knight. Killing any he did not see comparable.

"Go on Jon, only one more!" Gregor received Ser Beric yell, with the deaf shouts. Behind Jon, both Ser Barristan and Ser Beric stood inspecting, as Ser Beric encouraged the bastard pumping his fist. While Ser Barristan lingered silent and watched the bastard diligently with his arms crossed over the other. Eyes evidently studied the bastard. Gregor did not distinguish why, the bastard must have acquired luck with this fight.

"Hit the fucking bastard!" A group of men with Joffery shouted behind Iron, as the cries grew brasher over the rain. Men's voices raised to the sounds of a banshee, as spit came forth, everyone appearing as if they were animals ready for a kill. Their faces contorted into raging bandits. Gregor turned to the bastard, his feet moved back and forth, his feet pressed on the mud, he elected when to charge and not the other way around.

Gregor could see this bastard distinguished what he was implementing. Then at once, the two charged toward the other as the rain splashed against their swords. The sword's slicing the raindrops, meeting, ringing in the sky. Together neither halted as Jon brought his left sword to stab at iron's stomach. Seeing this iron spun out the way and answered with all his might stepping forward only to meet again ringing, the shouts becoming gaudier around them.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen- The Final Days Together

Midst the dirt, before Jon the once few in the crowd seemed to be superior than previously. Completely unaware to this as his eyes were focused on the squire. His weapon, ready.

Most folk spent each day to their chores, trying to hold attention to their job, but the sounds in the courtyard broke their concentration. The duel among the courtyard brought them packing in a cluster. What had started as Jon and Ser Barristan training together, turned into duels between knights, young and old from the seven kingdom's. Jon watched every knight for hours, inspecting with intent eyes. Respectively each knight fought with a different style and won or lost because of that fact. Jon himself fought and failed to lose to any.

Amid the many knights one voice carried above the others. "Face me Bastard." Ser Tim yelled. The old squire called and elected to duel, Jon noticed he was the matching short robust man with a receding hair line with the prince. Jon stood in the mud with a sword drawn. As their duel initiated it was a fight Jon anticipated to last. The knights cheering around him, the courtyard familiar, the enemy not so much.

Yet only moments until Jon found an open and struck a hard blow to his chest. The pain sending the man to the ground and wilted to stand. But before Jon could think, just as the squire fell to the mud, from nowhere two others took his place. Jon was not quick enough to react as he felt a dagger swipe at his cheek, digging into his skin. Blood seeping from the wound, without another thought he moved back. Several things happened at once, numerous knights stood before to break the farce but Jon quickly doused this. He stopped them as he wanted to duel fiercely.

Any challenge was another he never had the chance to fight. Hours and hours among the training yards with the same opponents. A regularity he soon wanted to change. The present was the opportunity to greet men from all seven in a duel, an aspect Jon had wished since he was a boy. In astonishment they backed off leaving only the three, Ser Geoff Lefford with his yellow teeth and Ser Tom and his crooked nose. The two men couldn't help but holler at their opponent. Joffrey laughed at this basking in the bastard being cut.

Instead of one squire, the young man found himself facing two lofty knights carrying devious smiles with swords intent on him. The crowd now a raging heard around him as the rain splashed against his face. Their feet moved back and forth around him, neither advancing, toying with their enemy. Jon's eyes inspecting near and waiting for a chance. Without notion they charged, then Jon lost sense as a fire took hold, it felt like a birth of vigor coursing through his blood, guiding him with each powerful thrust.

He remembered but a blur of his opponents, split seconds of instinct parries and dashes, a battle of disorder. He knew each attack as if he was told, blocking every strike ringing with a scrape as he trained his eyes and arms every day for this. In no time Ser Tim left his side open leaving Jon to bring his blunt weapon to his stomach, crashing with a groan into the mud. He laid on the ground. Gazing at the man almost with shock on his face.

He didn't know why he did it, but with his foot dug under the free weapon, he lifted the free weapon up catching it and grasping it with his sweaty and wet fingers. In his free hand and twisted it towards the enemy. Weapons in each hand as the yells drowned his thoughts. Only him and the knight still smiling, it seemed the smirk was a part of his face. The double stared down each other, the roars developed painful to the ear, the rain drenching their hair. Without thought the enemy moved with quiet confidence towards Jon.

The two charged meeting again and again. Jon found the man moved with a power as no one he had fought. The swords ringing, as for minutes they clashed with the flurry, hard to follow. The knight leapt forward opening the melee with a series of complex aggressive attacks. Jon felt his enemy's blade travel on every part of his body. As he twisted his weapon caught Jon hard on the shoulder sending him stumbling back. The knight basked in this standing back and took a chance to jest as the men laughed behind him.

The pain excruciating of a blunt blade, causing Jon to grit his teeth. But something else. As the rain splashed into his eyes, taking a deep breath as never before Jon felt that fire again, something brewing dark and deep in his heart as he never felt it before. He simply threw the pain from himself and stood taking a deep breath.

Everything his father ever spoke, Jorry, Ser Rodrick, his brother and his sister all challenged threw his arms and it felt good. Guided his attack as he was never clouded again. Ser Geoff Lefford looked at him shocked, no yellow teeth exposed as he undermined his enemy.

"He's got more fight in him." He said with a laugh. Jon provided the man no opportunity and made the first move, attacking with both weapons. The knight never left himself exposed and blocked the oncoming attacks. He transitioned Ser Geoff Lefford pushed forward on the offense, his arms rocked back and forth the clashes ringing. But Jon turned aside his assaults easily enough.

The two moved back and forth, giving and taking ground, the crowd keeping well to stay back, but the cheers never wilted. For a brief moment as Jon brought his weapon to his enemy's shoulder to be blocked he saw his opponent overextended, leaving his right arm vulnerable to a strike. With a last parry Jon carried his left weapon crashing to his right arm and had finally landed a blow, striking the knight hard in the arm.

The many hushed at this. The knight faltered back, his free hand clutching his arm but stood none the less. If his opponent felt anything at all, he kept it carefully masked beneath a cold smirk. The crowd whispered as the knight shook his body as if he was kicking the pain from his arm.

Jon was beginning to like this more than he should, the cut forgotten, the crowd nothing, but his enemy clear. Like naught seemed to make as such sense. Before another moment the knight kept up his power and charged.

The battle continued in the familiar rhythm of combat, the ebb and flow of attack and defense. Jon knew from his father to make sure his attacks were effective yet crude, trying to convince that he was not gaining full strength. Each time he wavered off his opponent charges with quick parries as the surge and swell of each exchange. The sweat obvious but the power still apparent as well. Jon felt the fire billow and take hold teasing for a weakness he could exploit. It acquired several minutes but Jon recognized it.

Despite the knight's statist he found his enemy slipping, the drawn out battle was causing a damper in his skill. With a wane imperceptibly the strikes of his foe became less crisp, the counters less precise and transitions less elegant as the knight gradually wore down. The fog of exhaustion was slowly clouding his mind and Jon knew it was only a matter of time until he made a crucial miscalculation. Yet even though he was battling, Jon's real struggle was with himself. Permitting the enemy to find a weakness and letting the hubris cloud his judgment, but he felt it not today.

As the prolonged physical exertion began to take its toll. Ser Geoff abandon all pretense of defense in an effort to end the duel. Jon kept his ground as the knight threw everything he had, the clangs as constant ring as the rain fell. The fire channeled through his moving muscles, exerting intensity. With a few more flurries the man couldn't keep up and with his power Jon brought his weapon with strength through the rain and ended crashing into his enemy's stomach. Sending him to the ground.

Again the instant the sword found the target, the crowd grew silent. Ser Geoff Lefford let the pain run it's course and his body crumbled, falling to his knees. Sword collapsed to the ground.

Jon stood unable for clear thoughts to run through his mind, his lungs exerting air barely even aware of his surroundings. A two inch cut was apparent on his left cheek, a sour spit of blood was foul in his mouth and a few cuts obvious on his hands carried pain, but he couldn't feel an ounce of it. Adrenaline ran through his blood like an unwavering surge unlike ever before. The rain and muck roofed his face, basking him in smells and a light.

The swords felt good in his hands, the weapons a liberation from himself, like nothing had ever felt so right in his hand. The clouds hung low, thick above as the rain grew into a chorus beating against Jon's face. He welcomed the sting on his surface. The three were laid out down on the ground. Their pain agonizing, their body's howled in pain. Faces a grimace as red hot daggers of pain shot through their body. Jon could only watch as the men groaned and the courtyard fell silent, merely the sound of rain splashing.

Ahead of him the courtyard was not a haze as before, but dead. Not a sound in the wind to be heard as the knight was kneeling on the ground. His once smile reduced to a sound only an animal made. His weapon once flowing through the wind with ease, now laid in the muck at his side. The crowd eyes darted from Jon to the downed knights. Jon stood still as the blood washed in the rain as he found surprised faces around him, as if they had seen a ghost come.

At an instant filling the silence a loud yell from Ser Beric echoed. What followed caused Jon's heart swell distinct over all else. A few men and women pated him filling the noiseless. A few knights from Winterfell, men whom threw down bets on him, and others who despised the Lannisters above all else. Jon gazed the scarce men and women all pleased, as pats began to fall on his shoulder. He accepted all greetings and nods.

But at this, several more around the prince gave him a glaring look. He gazed the courtyard and he found many with smiles while others carried a heavy scowl. Altogether they became a mist, as he felt her eyes burning through him. He found one in particular among the balconies as the nobility watched.

Amid the bright cloth he found her hair first, as it was easy to spot, he knew it so well. His sister stood leaning over with a smile on her face, as beautiful as ever. His eyes found hers and they both shared a beam that felt like an entirety. If there was any he wanted to see this, it was her. Before he knew it he was pated on the back by Ser Barristan.

As soon he shared a smile he felt the sun turn to darkness and an anxious feeling stuck his heart. Immediately as soon as he smiled a frown came just as easy. Turning he no longer saw smiles around him yet found Ser Gregor before the bastard. His massive size towering him, casting a shadow of enormity.

"You don't know the first aspect of a sword, bastard." the man's scruffy voice carried a weight and a malice. Jon knew it was unwise to fight him but held his ground nevertheless even if it was recklessness. The adrenaline still coursed hard and he felt bold as never before.

"This fight proved I know what I'm doing." He stated unlike for himself to say.

"What? That farce?" He asked letting his eyes gaze back at the men, now discerning they were nothing. "This lot. They barely can handle a weapon?... Why don't we see how well you stand when you face me bastard." The Lannisters laughed at this.

Before he could answer Jon felt a hand grab hold of his shoulder as Ser Barristan stood before him. "I think I might differ on that Ser Gregor." Ser Barristan had no likings for the Clegan's the rumors of what happened in King's landing still haunted him. His royal family he meant to protect, dead.

The mountain only grimaces. "I have no ill will with you, old man."

"I do with you." Ser Barristan declared, and drew his blade. The mountain unwavering only watched with a smile. The mountain needed no question, all to happy to draw his longsword, the steel scraping as it had to so many countless foes. Yet none were as skillful as the kingsgurad that stood among the many.

The two men stood drawn blades, eyes for only the other. Everyone could feel the intensity in the air. Men and women wasted no time and threw more bets as quick as their voices carried. All the while Joffrey stood forward with a few by his side. Jon found his piercing eyes.

"Ser I believe he has no quarrel with you, but wishes to fight the bastard." Joffrey said pointing his finger at the bastard with a monitor tone, wanting to witness Jon's face beat to a pulp for thrashing his knights.

Ser Barristan reserved his eyes on the mountain knowing all to well how he fought. "Oh believe me, I know my prince… But I think the mountain needs to remember whom he speaks to. And today I fell a certain light in the air, I haven't fought in some time and I think I'll break my retirement."

The mountain smiled as the old man usually kept his mouth shut. He would be content seeing his head decapitated. "You want to die here old man. I would be pleased to oblige." The mountain drew back his weapon but before he could attack.

"That's enough." The kingsuard knight boomed and came with a few strides before them his long golden hair easy to know. "Go on. This isn't a game." He told them. The mountain only smiled and sheathed his weapon. The men and women began to disappear off into the distant heading back to their duties. After everyone disappeared Jon remained with Ser Barristan.

He felt his hand clapped his shoulder. "You did well Jon. Can't say I ever saw a man fight with two swords." Ser Barristan said gazing the courtyard.

"I don't know why, but I felt like doing it was right." Ser Barristan simply nodded.

"Instinct. You did well, but I can see you can improve. You can be a knight above all else." Jon nodded with a beam basking in the compliment. As they stood the golden knight came forth.

"Come on Ser Barristan. You are meant to guard your king not this." Their eyes met and the knight left him with a pat. Jon was left by his lonesome in the courtyard the adrenaline began to wane as he looked up she was still there with a smile. Nothing was needed to be said, he only needed that smile.

The rest of the day was a blur as the feast came before he knew it. Never with the chance to speak with his sisters whom spent the better part of the day with the royal family. In particular Jon found the prince smiled around his sister but kept his distance from him, which he was already familiar.

The large hall constantly silent was an intense fog with the aroma of spices and sustenance. Several tables scattered about all packed with men and women sitting close together. The food covered every inch of the hall. From the roast boar to the wine that was poured at every table. Everyone was cheering and in a good temper. The hall was a loud smog, jokes and jests were thrown from tables as thunder rocked the hall. Bards strummed their instruments as smoke filled the air and drinks were had.

Unlike his family whom were to sit with the royal family, Jon was far in the back corner where the light dimmed and no one came. Although Jon was not alone in company, with the other squires laughing telling stories as they downed wine with a thirst. Many were seasoned warriors telling stories of the knights they squired for. A few from the south telling of bright green lands filled with trees that rose with fruits. Jon could only imagine this as he never went further than the neck, although at times his mind excused their voices. Jon still thought of his sister and the way she looked, these thoughts did come with unease but he couldn't help it.

Abruptly the doors open and he found the king with the lady stark came forth as the hall grew silent. Behind them his family entered onward. He watched as his family came forth, each with a member of the royal family beside them. His eyes were drawn when he saw his sister come and once more he sensed that feeling from earlier.

She was beautiful in a way he couldn't deny, but in a way that meant more. In a way that signified something else. A manner he never saw before. Swelling the entire hall, his eyes failed to comprehend anything else but her, in a bright gown as her hair tried to reach to the ground. In his own mind her eyes found his among all the madness. Somehow she found him and blushed seeing his gaze only for her. Jon could only try to mask his emotion with a smile. Just as they shared the smile she was beyond his sight at her table beside the prince.

Then came his sister Arya, and he could see she wanted to be far from this as eyes were on her the dress anything but her. Jon couldn't help but smile at this. The rest of his family entered and sat once down far from him. Then his father stood. His father thanked them all for coming. Toasts after toasts came, some proposed by his father and some others. They drank to the king, they drank to the knights among them who curtly nodded. Pig was served to the royal family, here he had salt pork but Jon was never complaining as he dug his teeth into the delicious food. In a matter of minutes the hall became crowded bursting with knights. Jon had never seen numerous lords and knights before, various shades ran through the hall. He could tell who most of them by the sigils on their cloaks. As from Highgarden he saw. As his eyes gazed the many he felt that same nip on his leg.

Among the squires Jon was thankful no one knew the three direwolves whom sat at his feet. All three stretched against his leg or nipped each other's ears. He couldn't help but smile as he eyes darted the room and fed them scrapes of food. As they chewed their food, he scratched their ears. Jon smiled each time they rubbed up against him, trying to get additional from him. All three direwolves had come to know the bastard and stayed close when his sisters had their duties. Which happened more often than not, but they knew his scent.

Far off to the either side the rest of his family sat drinking and eating and laughing loudly. He downed the wine as he secretly fed his wolves food, his eyes darting back and forth sure that no one noticed. As he fed lady he didn't notice the noise of footsteps behind was up and coming until they came to a halt behind him. Jon looked back and found Ser Barristan before him a smile on his face seeing the little direwolves at the bastard's feet.

"Would you like to join me?"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter fourteen- Under Moonlight

After a loud shout that carried over the many laughs the words came forth without thought. "Ser, nothing would please me more." Jon stated and Ser Barristan beamed. Jon stood from the table of squires, knowing another table would carry more flare. Across the hall the wolves moved near, darting under tables beside him. Through the sea of smoke, voices and shouts the two progressed. Approaching with a halt, coming before another table. Only this table was abundant with shouts, enough for his ears to bleed and rested near the central part of the hall.

The table accrued to be anything but inaudible, with men beaming and yelling to the other. Chicken and drink trickling down their beards and spilling onto the floor. Ale in hand, all clustered beside the other, huddled on the benches.

Eyes searched through the chaos of men with different clothes of various realms. Countless he failed to recognize, while few he did. The table a combination of men in surcoats from their respected houses. For once Jon did not feel out of place, experienced warriors whom fought in tourneys and battles, true seasoned knights. In fact in the seamless place. He knew knighthood required more than horse, sword and armor. Above all else, it required chivalry and skill at arms. Approximately, what he recognized he would thrive in.

Jon remained beside Ser Barristan before the table. The men were delved deep in conversation and food, few noticed Jon or the kingsguard. With this conundrum the old knight grasped his ale and with force slammed it down on the table. The cause, men came to a halt in conversation at a moment's notice, as if they failed their speech.

"Gentlemen." He sounded through out the table. The men fell noiseless, turned from their seats facing the kingsguard. Among the hall Jon gazed down a table of several knights, various faces of realms staring at him.

Ser Barristan settled his hand on Jon's right shoulder as the bastard stood at the center of the table, ahead of the men. The smoke slowly wafted through the air, past his face. "This is a friend of mine, Jon Snow. I know you will show him the same courtesy as you have me."

The men smiled. One in particular eyes grew and he leaned forward. A man of thirty years with short dusty brown hair and a pug nose, with a dark red surcoat over his chest. A few crumbs of food laid strewn on his chest. The hedge knight recognized the young man with an assured eye. "You're the Starks boy, aren't you?" The hedge knight asked, his voice slurred having had his fill of ale.

Jon nodded. "Ned Stark is my father, Ser."

The man smiled taking another sip of his ale, the liquid seeping down his face splashing onto the floor. "Your father is an honorable man. I am most humble, to meet you. I am Ser James werner." The man lowered his head, face kissing the ground. With nothing more, sitting back down with a loud thud.

Ser Barristan took stock of the men from the neighboring on the bench. "This is Bruce Kilgore." A rubout older knight from the stormlands with short greasy auburn hair and dirt covering his cheeks.

"Well met." Kilgore said with a heavy voice and a simple rise of his cup.

The man beside him. "A hedge knight I met not a night ago. Ser Herlde." Jon eyes encountered the knight. At once he knew it was the undistinguishable man from the previous day. Eyes did not linger and found them once again. The same man whom stared in the courtyard seemed to follow his same routine. Those eyes did not find the rest of the world very exciting, or they would gaze elsewhere other than Jon.

Looking to the edge another man sat, half of his body shrouded in darkness. "Ser Sandor." The hound did not answer and kept to himself at the far edge of the table. On the opposite side, Ser Beric sat and grinned while another man sat close. "And Ser Jerold Willames."A tall man from dourne with long flowing black hair and wearing a blue surcoat, lowered his head.

"At your service, my lord." The dornish man declared with an elegance and stood with a bow. Jon stood surprised by his words, never once this welcome uttered to him.

"I am no lord, Ser."

The man seemed puzzled. "You are the son of, Ned Stark?" He questioned leaning closer.

"Yes."

He smiled. "Then you are my lord. We of the dornish lands do not concern ourselves with this mockery. We see no bastards in our eyes. Any boy or girl is a lord or lady." The knight's words caused a beam from Jon, while the others grew weary of the discussions of dorne.

"Enough of the dornish lands and their verdicts. Sit down… I hear tell, you fought and beat Ser Geoff. Am I correct?" Ser James asked eagerly.

"You are, Ser." Jon confirmed.

A grin spread across his face like a bow, his cheekbones rise, turning to the men a great smile for them. "Well look at this, we have a real knight in our midst. Nobler then you lot." Ser James declared with a boom. Without another second he stood at the table with a bow. Jon stood static by what he said. "Ser Snow please come take a seat with us. There is plenty of wine for all." Jon smirked and sat down beside the humble hedge knight as the white knight acquired his own on the either. Once seated Jon found the men eyeing him, all but the hound who reserved himself at the edge, a piece of chicken ripping it between his teeth. The cracks were apparent the whole time.

First Ser James leaned in, his right elbow on the table to ease himself. "Some say you were a true knight among men. Some say you fought one against three. The likelihoods were not in your favor, but still you bested them." The men huddled close together curious as to the fight and how a young man became victorious against two knights and a squire. Ser Beric leaned forward over the table, his lips glistening as he had acquainted himself with wine from the arbor.

"I saw it for myself. A new Dragon Knight. And he did not fight with one sword, but with two swords." Ser Beric stated to the others, whom did not catch the fight, only rumors whispered in the day. A tale spoken among the guards and knights, reaching many. The men twisted back to Jon an expression of curiosity piquing.

Ser Jerold arched an eyebrow. "Two swords? Can't say I discern a knight with that purpose set in his mind." He stated gazing the table, trying to remember a knight, but in the end found none. "Why's that?" Jon simply shrugged at the question. Whenever he recalled it, it was instinct guiding his movements. Each slash was a movement of its own. But never once did life make as much sense as it did then.

"Thought it would double my chances." Jon told to a sea of silence. The numerous men grinned. Only the hound remained quiet in the corner, ripping another chicken, stuffing his mouth full.

"And that you did. Those three are pierces of dirt. I'm glad you sent them down a peg." Ser James stated.

Ser Jerold rose with a cup of wine. Straightening himself, his hand moved down his shirt to smooth the creases, as their eyes fell on him. "Here. A toast for our new brother in arms. A new knight of the north." The knight passed a cup of wine to Jon. "Only the finest dornish wine for us. I brought it up myself. All the way up the kingsroad from dorne." Jon smiled, clutched the cup of wine and with a look around poured it back. The warm liquid filled him with a sweet flavor in taste.

"It's good, Ser." The man beamed at the compliment. "Then, let me refill your cup." The man stated and Jon obliged.

With Sansa-

At the head of the hall, she sat among the princes and princess of the south. Plates of food covered the table before her. Keeping her back straight as her mother told. Numerous eyes fled and resided on the table. Winterfell a booming castle unlike ever before. She lightly eat her food. The voices around her nonstop as the sustenance was had. Her family sat beside her, all but the one whom she sought. Instead the prince sat near, never once halted his speech as at every turn of the conversation he spoke of himself and his achievements.

Sansa being polite masked herself, laughing when needed and smiling with a nod. The only hope was when the feast ended. The prince edged himself closer. "I hope you will come south. The day in the sun, is so much more improved than in this freezing hell… And in the South I can show you my crossbow." He shot with a confidence.

"Oh, you have a crossbow?" She asked.

His grin spread wide. "Only the finest in the seven. Had it special made. With it I can take aim. I can shot a boar right in the eye." Joffrey conjured to hold his favorite toy in his hands. "It was a glorious sight. I can hit a target from several paces without thought." Without knowing Joffrey took aim of his weapon, gazing he found mostly nobodies until he found the bastard. Smiling to himself, he pressed the trigger.

Jon-

Jon laughed and cheered at the others. While Ser Jerold drank more than even the hound. Slamming cup after cup down on the table with a belch. With a few drinks he ordered more. The knights cheered and slapped Jon on the back as he had a go with the wine.

Jon felt a delight, never in company with a group of friends, outside of his family. Distinguished this must be what it felt like to be surrounded by people who laughed and joked with the other. The knights were a humble company unlike that of any he knew. Although looking he noted one knight was absent from the feast. "I fail to find Ser Jamie besides us." Ser Barristan and Beric shared a laugh.

"Ser Lannister, does not deem us kind company, to put it best. He believes we are lower than him." Beric told with a smile. "He's a bit of a twat. Thinks he's the best. Hedge knights are not men in his company."

The hedge knight edged closer. "I wager I could take him." Ser James stated pumping his chest out proudly.

The rest of the men smiled mockingly. "Take him? You hear this, thinks he can take on a kingsguard. You boast and boast but you can't make song with sword and you can't hit shit."

"I could. Just need to lessen my intake of drink." He stated, his voice low with doubt.

"And when will this happen. When has a damn day dawned where you are not drinking yourself into a stupor." Ser Jerold asked.

"You'll see. Mayhaps our brave new knight here can defeat the kingsguard." Ser James declared with a hubris. Jon felt their eyes on him again and Ser James came closer.

"Tell me, Jon. What do you intend to do further south? I know for one, you should not waste your talents here." Jon knew his answer the moment the question was asked.

"To dip my blade and kneel as a knight." He told with a confidence, to a smile from every man, but one. The hound currently ripping apart a piece of chicken with his hand stopped, leaned forward. Sandor gazed over the young teenager and saw no killer before him. A lone naive boy, and that was all.

"Have you killed a man?" The burnt man asked in his ruff morbid tone. The lone question carried a weight and caused the once cheerful men to grow silent. Their eyes traced the hound and did not utter a word. Knights among Jon had sunk their blades in a man, and these men did not enjoy the sights they witnessed. Neither did they want to witness what they knew again.

Jon gazed over the man, half off his face shrouded. "No." He answered. The hound snorted as he went back to his food without a word.

Ser Barristan pleasantly patted Jon on the back bringing him to reality. "Don't concern yourself with him." Ser Barristan stated and Ser James nodded.

"You could become a hedge knight. Roam the seven with a warm ale in your hand, and a chicken to fill your belly… Don't forget all the woman you could ever desire." Ser James said with a drift, staring into nothing.

"Yeah, but you don't get any women." Ser Jerold mocked and the men shared a laugh. Ser James scoffed looking over at Jon.

"Don't listen to these petty doubters. They know nothing." he declared his lips glistening with ale. With another large swig of his ale, clearly drunk. "Tell me, Jon. You have a woman?" Jon stopped in thought from the unexpected question. Their was one girl he could think of, only one.

Looking away from the man, he found her from across the hall. Through the mist of smoke and shouts somehow eyes falling on her smile. "No… I mean, theirs this one girl I like. But, I wouldn't know what to say." The knight smiled.

"Well, let me tell you what to say, approximately." The hedge knight sat back, settling himself. "You grasp her in the arms, like so." He wrapped his arms around the air, nodding to the young man making sure he was listening every step of the way. "Be sure your arms wrap closely around her, like this." With a position as if a woman was with him. "Then, tell her she if the fairest lady in all the lands. That her beauty is that of a queen. That when you see her, all else fails to come in vision because of her splendor. She is the only thought on your mind, and all else is only a wake of clouds drifting away." The hedge knight nodded with a grin. Unknown to Ser James, Jon would say this to his own blood. That these words meant for some girl were in fact his own blood.

Some of the knights heeded as well and laughed at the man. "What are you on about?" Ser Beric asked. The knight turned and began to speak, but Jon failed to collect any of their words. They were drifting away with each beat of his heart.

Mind focused on much more important matters. Jon eyes rested on the royal table, across the hall and over at his sister. Smiling as he saw her. Lost his consternation as she laughed. Why did she have this effect, and only her. Looking as his sister giggled. With another thump of his heart his vision widened with the prince coming into view beside her. The smile that formed his face gradually twisted into a frown.

The sight caused a pit in his stomach, watching as the prince gently rested his hand with hers. Their hands entwined with the other as they laughed. The image burned through his brain. Fists clenched together as his mind blurred. The pit in his stomach caused a wallow in him.

Turning back to the knights. "You must excuse me." he told without caring if they replied. The men nodded. Without question he stood a rage convulsing, leaving the feast. Mind blurred, no sights or laughs met him, yet were constant around him. He wanted to leave this place that was his priority as quick as his legs could take him. Some women bumped into him on his way. The yells beside him failed to greet his ears, deep in thought. The room of bright colors, only a blur to him.

Pushing through a door that led to the wall of the castle, the cold winds blew into his face, a welcome feeling. The night wind lapped at Jon like some beast. The voices and yells drowned out in the breeze as the doors closed behind him.

The snow fell on him, alone. Here the sky was soundless as was the world, a quiet story. He set off on an unclear path, his feet crunching on the snow, his mind uncertain. Coming to halt against the wall Jon noticed ghosts in the courtyard, unaided. Resting his hands on the cold stone, his hands freezing to the touch.

The moon poured out over the wall, cascading over his face. Resting himself against the wall in shadow, gazing the world above him. And yet even distant from the hall, the only thoughts he held, were of her. In his mind Sansa remained, with the prince alongside her. The one unending thought endured tearing all else. Sansa would marry him. He loathed the very thought. But worse the image of her with him, laughing. _Why would she like him? The prick._ She was always on his mind, she was beautiful in every way and he could not deny himself that. He liked her in a way he shouldn't.

Deep in thought Jon did not perceive the door gently creek open behind him. Or the crunch of the snow as someone drew near, until they rested a few feet from his own.

"Jon." his sister's voice sounded gently behind him. Turning to find her by herself, the breeze blowing her dress. First he noticed her clothes not for the weather. In her gown she pulled it tightly around her form from the cold, her face fully flush. "Why are you here, by yourself in the cold? The feast only began." Her voice was filled with discomfort. For a split second he lost his thought, staring at her. But the prince came to mind again. He glared at her for moment, anger etched his face.

"I would ask you the same?" He shot at her and tuned back looking out into the forest. She caught anger in his tone, an unwelcome feeling washed over her. Looking at him, his face remained in dusk like his thoughts.

"What? What's wrong?" She asked closing the distance. He let a moment pass, his eyes searching for the feelings that he sensed. Feelings in his mind that vexed him, trying to reach and grasp, but persisted in darkness. How he felt for her, his own sister.

"It's. It's nothing." He shot, his tone shallow turning to her.

"It's the prince, right?… Look at me." her voice was hard, filled with emotion. Jon knew that voice well and turned over, facing her but remained silent. Sansa gazed over him, his eyes met hers finding no doubt. She knew this moment would come and she would not wait any longer. But how does one confess to your own blood? To place the cards down on the table. To risk it all. And just what will it do to them, if she tells him and he doesn't feel the same way? Just how badly will it wreck things between them? Their friendship can be destroyed in a matter of a few moments, with just a few words. Perhaps ruining everything and lose her friend forever.

Pushing those thoughts aside she pressed forward. "I don't care for him." She declared but Jon thought otherwise from the image he held and shook his head. She recognized he didn't believe her. With her mind racing, in this world she accepted how wrong this was, but finally couldn't contain it. Being apprehended inside her heart for months now. Every day the training she blushed around him, every day at dinner she shared a smile with him. He made her feel heartfelt unlike any.

"There is someone else I care for." The words carried over the silence. Jon's face softened and gazed her in mid thought, the moon reveling half of her face to him. Heartbeat thumping harder it might pop, snow gently resting in their hair. The moon broke free from its veil of clouds shining brighter than it had in years.

Sansa felt tight, she wanted to scream it out loud, for her words to lease form her throat. For her voice to come forth with the words, but she needed to say it. All this time fabricated up to this moment and she finally needed to say it or she may detonate. Her heart beating, her hand reached grasping his familiar hand she steadied her emotions. Jon felt that sensation again, his body ignited with warmth. Observing her hand grasping his, she was warm to the touch but so much more.

"Someone else?" He questioned. She bit her lip, why couldn't he understand? She felt her heart might pop at this point. With his hand in hers she grasped it firmer. Love bubbling in his heart unlike ever before. An affection overcoming his body, mind and heart. Only she formed these emotions to lease from him. Her alluring eyes so beautiful unable for his own to grasp all else. Sansa Stark caused the world to freeze in all it's momentum and she did so often and easily for Jon. Being lost in them.

In this instant no longer fearful or with doubt. After all this time she wanted, needed him to know how she felt. Each second was another her stomach churning, her face flush. "Someone, who was there with me when no one else was. Someone I know better. Who knows me better than any. There in the worst, and best of times." Her eyes fall. "I know I shouldn't. I know, that what I feel towards him is wrong." Her eyes rise to meet him again, their breath in the air. "But I do anyways. My heart tells me the love and I cannot resist it." She declared and not for a second did her grasp fail. Only for him.

He knew at this precise moment what she was saying. Each moment was as long her heartbeat hastened. The snow seemed to float gently, the breeze edging them closer entwining the two.

"Every time I see him, I want to desperately scream." She said strain in her voice. "To tell him how I feel. Tell him everything. But how can I?" Jon took in what she said. Warm moonlight filled the sky against their faces. Jon felt a jolt of warmth rush through his veins, surging through him, pumping blood in his heart. Taking deep breaths, his eyes were nearly feeling the very love clutch him in his grasp. Concentration shook unable for clear thought to graze his mind. Up close her beauty was that of no one else, stunning in every way.

She swallowed a lump in the back of her throat. No doubt, or worry, only love a love that took hold of the two and tangled them in a basking glow. Their eyes were only for each other as all else in this world faded. The dragon and wolf remained in a beautiful effervesce.

She took a long needed deep breath and finally said it. "I only want you." The words carried. Jon gradually leaned forward with a tilt, and captured her lips. The shock of the kiss elevated Sansa, his soft lips lightly to hers. Their first kiss. And a kiss so wrong. Her lips to his like a whisper as they gently allow their lips to meet. At first the kiss was soft. Very soft and very tentative. Allowing the kiss to elevate them to a higher plane. Sansa's arms slip around him, trying to keep him close to her body. The cold washed away and what was left was a basking warmth from head to toe.

To her dissatisfaction he leaned back before she could fully appreciate it. Her eyes stayed closed shut as she basked in the radiance, while Jon stood silent. Open she gazed him with an affection.

"You like him?" He asked, his voice a low whisper. Her eyes were a glaze of love and she simply nodded. Unable to stop watching him, his eyes filled with a breathless wake.

"I like him." She stated, her voice low. The sentence shot through the young bastard and he never wanted it to let go.

"I like you too." Jon declared. He gently leaned forward capturing her lips again in a sweet trail of bliss. The kiss made her stay motionless for a split second. Then they leaned away.

"We should get back." he told and she nodded.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter fifteen

The next day-

Jon stood alone in the courtyard, the sun shining down on his form. The mannequin before him was losing the fight. Taking Slice after slice was all a mannequin could do. He couldn't help but think of Sansa at times. And more importantly her smile burned into his grain. The smell of her. Whilst he was deep in his mind a lone voice rang.

"Bastard." A heavy, ruff voice called, carrying an unwelcome malice. Jon turned over to find the similar enormous man from the night previous. Eyes falling on the familiar dark steel with several slashes on the exterior from battles. Each cut a story of it's own.

The hound stood there, his massive size eclipsing the sun behind him. That same burnt face staring at him with a reckless abandonment. "You spend quite your time with that." He pointed to the weapon in Jon's hand.

"If I am to be a knight, I have to train day and night." The hound smiled knowingly then observed the mannequin behind Jon.

"I see no opponent to grace this hell-hole you call home, knight." He mocked coming closer, snow crunching. "I only see you, and training with air and sticks no less. No matter how hard you try, these many immunities cannot help you from facing others." The hound came up close, the smell of liquor in the sultry air. Passing Jon the sound of metal clinking sounding and resting before the blunt weapons. He looked over the selection of various blunt weapons upon a table. The assortment was not par with that of the southern armory's he visited so often.

"This all you have? Ser castle has to spend some time and craft better steel for the likes of knights. These will be cut by petty dronish weapons." He said inspecting a blade. Jon took offense.

"That is castle forged steel, Ser. Only the best in the seven. No craftsmen can do better." Jon told with confidence.

"You think this is good steel? I can consider a thousand better twats. Only children would use these. Couldn't even cut butter." He ridiculed, his hand running down the blunt blade.

"Your eyes must be weary." Jon told and the hound looked back, that dare in his eyes.

"Do not be boastful with me. I've dealt with enough cunts today."

"A good swordsman does not blame his weapon." The much larger man scoffed at this.

"Tell me that when a man has a valyrian sword." The hound found one long blunt sword in particular he liked. Gripping the leather hilt in his hand, the familiar feeling of a well fitted match. Once it felt comfortable, his head rose, staring at nothing. "You say you want to be a knight. You defeated two men with no backbone, and a drunkard. Nothing to brag about. And yet still you spend your time alone with no combatant… A knight does not learn from fighting easy quarry, or no one… A knight must learn victory, as well as defeat from the hand of others." He professed and without another word the hound spun with the blunt sword turning with his power. With one movement he brought the sword down and the vigor with it. The weapon aimed on the young man's neck. Jon stood his ground and rose his own.

Blades met to a resounding loud crack that sounded, Jon parried the blade. That instant the blood flowing and apprehension faded. Only after the first move, the hound did not waste his swiftness. With resounding strength he brought the blade at Jon's expense and exposed stomach with a sideward slash, only to be parried again. Their eyes narrowed as the hound found no clear open and kept the offense. The large man moved on him with bizarre extended rapid transfers, his stretched movement carried much greater power than any he faced. Still the parries came and went after several movements. What Jon did not expect was him a raising his knee, ending with a solid kick from the man right in the stomach. Sending him stumbling back.

"Keep your guard up." The hound sounded moving back and forth, waiting. Jon did not reply and regained himself. With no matter of a moment to rest, he charged. The few paces needed nothing as the blades cracked again, meeting in no time. The hound's face nearing his own. Their blades scrapping against the other, the two pushing with power, a mere few inches from each other's face. "You don't give up, do you?... Tell me, what do you fight for? Honor?" Jon's eyes met his, finding no doubt, only a wicked glee. "Honor means shit! Remember that, Snow." He shot at the young man.

"Shut, up." Jon brought his blade high above his shoulders trying to reach the sky itself and with fury came crashing down again to meet the hound. The hound smiled as the slashes no longer carried only intensity but a wrath. He could sense it willing to the surface. He kept the bout until the young bastard blocked the final strike. The two resting several paces from where they once were.

"Your form is off." The hound told without any exhaustion standing displeased, while he rested his blunt weapon on his shoulder.

"I blocked every blow." Jon said regaining his breath from the experienced knight.

"I wasn't fucking trying. Any knight would have effortlessly cut that head of yours, clean off." He declared with a smile. "Do I have to say it, snow…"

"Say, what?"

"Hold nothing back. Show me your anger and what little skill you have." Jon stood staggered under the uninterrupted fight. Yet even with his arm pounding from a blow, he would never pass up a spar, specifically with a knight of the seven no less.

The young man stood, arm pounding, feet spread and charged recklessly. The bout went on and on. The hound and Jon kept the sweat and onslaught. While Jon met difficulties, Sandor on the other hand missed a decent spar, all the southerners were here for a feast and enjoyed to keep their suits clean, unlike this bastard.

As minutes turned to hours Jon's face covered with mud, blood ran down his left hand from a hard knick of the weapon. A reminder of the days down south when Sandor trained. Still he retained the attack free flowing. The two stormed one last time, their feet planted, their weapons elevated. The hound found an exposed attack and kicked him in the stomach yet again. The kick sent Jon falling back into the mud. "You have to be prepared."

"I didn't expect you to kick me."

"Do men in battle not kick? Does a man forget to kick? Don't be so daft boy." Jon stood for the last time and charged again. This time a detonation of wrath, the feat sent the hound back, as he found anger in the boy. Just what he waited for. Just what he wanted. The restless pound of steel on steel, as Jon hence forth all his rage. The hound backed into the wall and they stopped with Jon almost reaching the target. Finally Jon found an exposed attack and went for his extended misstep. Jon smiled but before he could land the final blow, before he could finally win. He found only a dagger placed at his stomach. Jon became stationary feeling it almost penetrate his armor. It was the first real moment Jon felt his heart stop from a fight, like the air left his body. Jon looked down at the dagger. Looking back up he found the hound with a grin. Next thing he knew was the feeling of his face sting with pain as his vision turned white. Stumbling back his nose hurt like hell. Sandor had head-butted the young man.

"You cheated."

"I pulled a dagger right here, and your dead."

"Their was no honor."

"Who said anything about honor? You want to live or die. What happens when someone attempts to kill someone you care for, someone you even love. What is honor then?... Shit. It's all shit. You want to live. You want to keep the people you love alive. Fuck honor. Fuck it all… So tell me? What do you want?"

"To Live."

"Then be all the wiser. Use what you have against your enemy. If your enemy threatens you, if they hit you. You don't falter but hit them harder. If your enemy causes any harm to what you hold dear. You have to destroy them. Or they will endure and destroy what you care for. Left alone. You must be stronger than your enemy. Not just physical, but mentally." The words had an effect on the young man, honor was seethed into his brain. Sandor was the first man who explained it otherwise. The hound extended his hand with the dagger and handed Jon the weapon. Their eyes meet and Jon saw some truth.

"When you find the right moment, you pull the dagger up and run it across the stomach…" For a moment Jon stared at the man. "Or may be they do it first… Or worse you'll find what you love. Dead." The words remained in his head and would for days on end. Jon would never let that come to pass, he would do anything. He would die before that happened. "Now, again."

Later in the night-

Sansa laid in her bed, the dreams of a fantasy in mind. A dream unlike any she knew. That was until being awoken by an obnoxious noise at her door. Rubbing her eyes she looked over at the door to hear the knocks again. The instant she knew. _Jon._ Without thought she rushed to the door with knowledge to find her brother.

The door flying open she didn't discover what she hoped. Instead she found the red and gold garments of the young prince standing there. With a charming smile he bowed. "My lady, excuse me for my ill meeting, but I miss you. I could stand not another second. Will you join me on the gracious evening?"


	16. Chapter 16

"My lady, excuse me for my ill meeting, but I miss you. I could not stand another second. Will you join me on this elegant evening?"

"Oh, I am quite tired." She stated on cue yawning.

"I really must insist." He stated with a smile, not taking no for an answer.

"Let me get dressed." Her tone shifted. Swiftly she closed the door and found a dress. After several moments, back out of her room. With a smile he took her in arm. In the darkness they left down the hall.

The sky above them simply gloom, not a single star for as far as the eye could perceive. Unlike any night before, no bright moon glimpsed the sky. A night hushed, not a peep in the wind.

Only the two, arm and arm down the vacant hall. The all-inclusive time Sansa remained silent as Joffrey smirked brightly, his head held high. It was a princely aura, nothing could go wrong for a prince. "I must say, my time with you is superior than with anyone. No woman is lovelier." Joffrey quantified with a beam.

"Thank you." she smiled with no expression, her mind somewhere else.

"Of course…" His expression turned foul. "I only wish the rest of your family is as gracious."

"What?" She asked at an instant coming to a halt.

"Please do not get offended my lady. But I mean, you must see it. Your aggravating sister is so strong headed. And that bastard. That bastard is nothing but foul. Really, they should do us a favor and keep quiet. All bastards should keep their mouths shut. They are born senseless, filthy cowards…" His eyebrows narrow, face piercing with enmity by the second. "Nothing like you my sweet lady to be." Sansa pulled her arm away as she kept her mind clear, or she would lose it.

His face softened. "But enough about your family." His hands rest on her waist coming to a halt. "I have to confess. I do not wish to wait for our marriage. It is to great a distance."

"Um, what?" Sansa said slowly backing away. Without another word he leaned forward his lips trying to meet hers. She gently leaned away not letting that occur. Joffrey stopped looking at her with intense eyes, that mask began to fade, gradually he felt thunder in his temple. The two shared a quick smile, but Joffrey felt his hands disturbingly shake. Only with a cruel smirk did he lean in again, his hands grab hold of her wrists. "Kiss me, my lady."

"Now Is not the time." He was growing impatient as his mask dissolved, from a courteous young man to his true self. She leaned away from him again not permitting him to reach her. Trying again for the third time he leaned forward with strength, his hand forcefully pulling her hands. Before he could reach her however, she slapped him across the face. That instant his mind flashed red, his hands tighten seizing her wrists with anger. A lack of emotion, he reached up and grabbed her by the neck, his fingers gripping her skin tightly. Sansa's eyes grew wide, shocked.

"You, will kiss me." he commanded with venom his hand constricted around her neck pulling her to him. With his fingers squeezing she began to choke, eyes turning red. Sansa lost her breath but felt the rage in her veins. With force she jerked her knee upwards into his groin. She landed a hit causing a vicious yell to erupt, his hands slipping free, leaning down in pain. "You Fuck!" Joffrey lost his thoughts as his true anger and insanity was shown clearly. That instant he leaned advancing and brought his fist forward, punching her in the stomach sending her stumbling back. Sansa's hands wrap around her stomach in agony.

Jon currently stood in the training yard under the black sky while most were asleep, another day of exercise out with his weapon. As he brought his weapon down with full force once again, he stopped mid swing. Catching a noise, he turned around hearing someone in the distance.

Joffrey grabbed her by the hair pulling her back and landed another cruel blow against her stomach causing a shout. "You, are not running." Joffrey seized her hand pressing down harshly causing Sansa to grit her teeth in pain. Before Joffrey's fist could reach her again for a third time he caught a noise, looking over out of the darkness came a lone individual. Finding the bastard in the gloom treading towards him.

"Well look who it is. I was just talking about your fine family not a moment ago." He released Sansa as she fell to her knees, her neck raw and red. "I spoke about how much I pity you, and your sister." He stated with a shit-eating grin, looking down at Sansa with a glare. "She's just another spoiled stark. Just like you, and your crippled dead brother. You Starks are all pathetic." Joffrey told with a certain pleasure. Instead of a cordial smile Joffrey wore his grin with intensity, his eyebrows narrow.

Jon did not respond. Two long strides was all that was needed. Reaching the prince, their was no single thought in his mind. Without an utter to spill the air, Jon grabbed him by the shoulder with his left hand, a good grip. Joffrey watched him, a look of shock flashed his face knowing it was to late. Weapons were forgotten along with anything else his family taught him. All sense had fled his mind and with it, his emotion. Jon lunged forward, his fist came rocketing forward, a knuckle eclipsing Joffrey's world. Before he could react the fist came into contact with the prince's face, thrashing him. A hard and loud crunch was heard, the cartilage of the nose breaking under the strength. The sound rising throughout the hall. The hit was enough to knock him clean off his feet, falling back with a blood curdling scream. Joffrey lost his footing falling back, but stepped forward off balance. Jon did not stop there, with the toe of his boot slammed it into the prince's belly sending him to the floor. With a brash thud Joffrey smashed, meeting the ground. Sansa stood unable to think straight as she watched the sight. It all happened so quickly.

The prince with agony rolled over obscuring his hand and reached for his knife. The flash of steel caused Sansa's senses to recollect. "Jon!" She uttered moving forward with a throbbing pain.

Once in the prince's hand he swiped it forward slashing at Jon's face. The knife caught Jon's left cheek opening a small gash. A thin line of blood sprayed the wall, but did nothing to discourage the livid wolf. He didn't feel a single speck of pain. That same aggression running through him. A single streak of red against a layer of skin, yet his blood was pumping rapidly.

Jon seething stepped on Joffrey's wrist with his left foot and brought his right foot forward, ending with a substantial kick to the prince's chin. Joffrey's head shot sideways as a thick froth of blood filled his mouth, the dagger sliding away from his limp hand.

Without thought Sansa quickly darted for the weapon, grabbing hold of it.

The prince laid on the ground his arms limp, immobilized blood covering his face. Without knowledge men in Stark and Lannister armor descended, rushing towards them with vigor. A group of footsteps banging against wood. In a second swarming the bastard, a man each grabbed Jon by the arms, with effort pulling him away from the bloody prince.

"Grab him! Grab him!" Their voices were nothing to him, a slight waft in the air. His eyes concentrated, only on the prince.

Sansa watched with horror as the men derived rushing from every hallway crowding around them and holding down her brother. Two proceeded to grab her by the arms dragging her away, as others pulled Jon from the bloody, shrieking prince.

With the bastard off the lion they caught the first glances of blood. "Ah, fuck." One guard said kneeling beside the prince. Where once a charming face was to glint, now a layer of blood, a broken nose and some missing teeth cased his face.

The Lannisters among the group turned looking at the young wolf, their eyes resting on him. Jon tried to break free but two Lannisters rushed and grabbed him forcefully from the others.

"Jon!" Sansa yelled, she could see for the first time the anger in his eyes, not of himself but dark and pupils dilated. She did not know this from her sweet brother. Reality came back as one of the Lannister's among the group punched the bastard hard in the face, causing his head to shoot backwards as another landed his own punch to Jon's gut. The group of men turned on one another, their eyes widened. The Starks on one side and the Lannisters on the other.


End file.
